


Inscrutable Loyalty

by Elanshaw



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Trauma, Suspense, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 38,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24775012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elanshaw/pseuds/Elanshaw
Summary: Hotch is abducted and led down a road of fear, death and heartache.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes places almost a year after "100". It may not follow the show's timeline completely and I may have taken some liberties with FBI protocol here and there for poetic license.

The woman smiled as he entered her home.

They always smiled at him, he had that type of face; almond eyes, easy grin. He gave her a smile in return as they moved into the kitchen.

“It's been giving me trouble for a while now, I don't know what the problem is!"

"Don't you worry, that's what I'm here for." he smiled.

He could smell her strawberry shampoo as she stood next to him. She wore too much makeup, but her hair…

Short and blonde and oh so shimmering in its loveliness…

He set his tool box down and as he rummaged through it, her attention turned away for a moment.

_A moment was all he needed._

The smile slipped from his face as he turned towards her; the large hunting knife in his hand gleaming in the overhead light, the ivory handle smooth under his touch.

“Ah, I think I see the problem." he whispered.

She turned back to him with a smile, which slowly faded as she saw the knife in his hand, her eyes widening…

"W-what..." she stuttered.

As she took a step back, his eyes darkened and he swiftly moved forward.

Blood caked the walls before her screams hit the air.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

The SUV sped through the city streets on the tail of the parade of cop cars.

They finally had the lead they spent weeks trying to find. The profile had been correct, the Corval County serial killer was Mason Thomas Ezral and they were racing to his home on the outskirts of the county.

Morgan glanced over from the passenger seat to Hotch whose fists were clutched tightly around the steering wheel as he drove like a bull, almost barreling through the cop cars up ahead.

"Hotch?" frowned Morgan.

Hotch seemed to be taking this case personally. Ezral who had worked as a freelance plumber had brutally murdered six women all within the past three months. All the women were blonde and looked somewhat like Haley, Hotch's murdered ex-wife. Hotch had taken it upon himself to personally speak to the families of the dead women promising them his team would not stop until the Unsub was found.

Well it happened, there was a witness and they finally got the break they needed.

The moon was hidden behind the clouds, the air crisp as the cars flew down the darkened road.

"Hotch?" repeated Morgan.

"I'm fine." Hotch huffed, still staring at the road; his hands tightening a little more on the steering wheel.

"We're going to get him, you know that, right?"

"I know Morgan...I know."

Morgan glanced back at the SUV behind them, the rest of the team keeping close.

* * *

Ten minutes later the cars pulled off onto a dirt road, they had cut their sirens earlier on Hotch's order.

_We don't want to give him any warning…_

Not long after, the house came into view; a small ramshackle excuse for a home sitting in a small clearing by the edge of the woods. The cars pulled to a stop and officers poured from their vehicles.

Hotch ran towards the front door gun drawn, Morgan right by his side; he quietly motioned the rest of his team around back.

"Ezral!" Hotch shouted, standing by the side of the door.

"FBI!" Not waiting even a second more, he motioned to the officer with the battering ram who broke down the door; Hotch, Morgan and the rest of the officers rushing in.

Soon the echoes of "Clear…Clear." resounded throughout the house.

_Ezral wasn_ ' _t there._

"Damn it!" Hotch slammed his fist against a wall.

"No movement out back." said Rossi, as he, Reid and Prentiss stepped into the room.

Prentiss holstered her gun. “He must have known we were coming."

Reid pulled out his phone and dialed Garcia.

"Garcia, Ezral's not here, he…what? Hold on!"

Reid turned to Hotch. "There was a leak, news footage a few minutes ago. They gave out his name."

“No!" Hotch shouted. The normally collected man kicked over a side table next to him, startling the team members. “Where was JJ?!"

Rossi stepped closer to Hotch, worried about his uncharacteristic outburst.

"Hotch, let's get some air."

He stood facing Hotch, eyes calm but persistent. The taller agent stared at him, jaws clenched, his body shaking; after a moment, his shoulders slumped slightly and he took a deep breath and nodded walking past the others and heading out the back door.

Rossi looked at the others. "Don't worry about him, we need to find some evidence where Ezral might have gone."

The others nodded as the two older agents left the room.

* * *

Standing on the small back deck, Rossi sighed softly as he stared in worry at his friend.

"Aaron, we'll get him. We'll find a clue here...I'm sure of it."

"It's June, Dave. He's been killing since April. What if it takes another three months before we find him? How many more women will he kill between now and then?"

Rossi was concerned over how tired his friend sounded. "When was the last time you slept?"

Hotch leaned against the deck railing looking out into the woods as the moon eased its way from behind the clouds.

"I'll sleep when Ezral's behind bars." he replied.

It had been a little less than a year since Haley's death and with the victims looking similar to her…Rossi shook his head slowly, thinking of what he could say to make Hotch back down from this.

Nothing...there was nothing he could say.

Hotch squeezed his eyes shut, he was so tired; this case had kept him thinking about Haley which meant no sleep. The nightmares of that day still plagued him, though he kept that fact away from his team. Rubbing the side of his face, Hotch opened his eyes and froze - his heart slamming to a stop in his chest.

Several yards away, a figure stood at the edge of the woods.

"Dave, are there any officers out there?" whispered Hotch, his eyes glued to the shadowy figure.

"No, it's too dark to see much of anything; they're waiting until daybreak. Why?"

Hotch hurdled the railing, his hand yanking at his gun.

"He's still here!"

"Hotch, wait!" started Rossi, but his friend was already running full speed towards the darkness of the trees. Rossi turned back to the house.

"Morgan!" he yelled and then ran from the deck to back up Hotch who by then had already disappeared into the woods, notching up Rossi's worry scale to a million.

_Damn it, Aaron!_

* * *

Mason Ezral had stood by the woods' edge watching the men standing on his deck. He could have been long gone by now, the news footage giving him ample time to be far enough away; but he had decided to stay close by – hiding – waiting. He knew he was chancing heavily on getting caught, but he wanted to see if The Agent would come.

Hotchner.

The man was a bane to his existence. His face appearing at press conferences, Mr. Serious Agent. His eyes like lasers, no doubt in his voice, stating that they would catch him. Staring straight into the camera almost like he was looking directly at Mason himself.

_We will catch him…_

_I will catch you_ …

Ezral's new path in life started months before, after his wife and young son had died in a car crash; she had been planning on leaving him and taking their son with her.

_You're so angry all the time, Mason, I can't take it! What's wrong with you?_

_Do you want our son to grow up like his daddy?_

He had hit her hard across the face for that. They had been arguing for months, his hatred for her seeping and hardening into stone as the days and weeks slipped by. She had reminded him of his mother, a bottle-blonde chain smoking vindictive woman who thought that shame, degradation and abuse were the hallmark's in raising a child.

When he got the call a few months before from a relative that she had up and died of lung cancer, Mason had drank himself into a blackout; not out of sorrow, but rage that he didn't get to kill her himself. He awoke to find himself face down on his living room floor, the room swinging enough into focus for him to see his wife carrying his son as she hesitantly walked by with a suitcase in hand. Mason's eyes had narrowed as he took in her black eye and the bruise on her cheek and neck; then had looked down at the swollen knuckles on his hand.

_Oh_.

Before he could say anything, she saw that he had awoken and had startled, then yelled that he would never see his son again and ran for the door. By the time he found his footing, by the time his rage tightened its hold on him once again, they were gone; the screech of tires echoing down the street.

Plans to find her and kill her to get his son back were yanked from him the next morning, when some deputies arrived at his door with condolences and news that his wife and son were dead. She had been driving too fast and had lost control, the car had wrapped itself around a tree.

Most likely dead on impact, they didn't suffer.

She had done it, taking his son from him for good. She didn't get to pay for what she did. He had wanted her to suffer, he **needed** someone to suffer.

His rage grew and festered. Then one day at a bar, a small blonde smiled at him and his course was set.

It bothered Mason that they had gotten so close, that he had almost gotten caught; he was better than that! So when he moved slowly to the edge of the woods and saw Mr. Serious Agent standing there, he couldn't help but step out into the clearing. He stood there for a few minutes waiting and then it happened, he was seen and Hotchner was suddenly vaulting the railing and racing after him.

Mason smiled and turned back to the woods, as this was exactly what he had wanted. He gripped the hunting knife he was holding and ran into the darkness.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

Within seconds of entering the woods, Hotch slowed for a moment quickly scanning the area; the light from the moon allowing him to just make Ezral racing through the trees ahead of him. Hotch quickly followed as the moon was swallowed up by the clouds once more.

While searching Ezral's belongings for clues, Morgan froze for a split second after hearing Rossi shout his name. Then he glanced at Reid and Prentiss and tore out of the house, gun already in hand. With a quick look at the empty deck, his gaze turned to the woods just in time to see Rossi disappearing through the trees.

Prentiss raced after Morgan, some of the officers in the home following behind her.

"Reid…Reid, what's happening?"

Reid turned to the phone in his hand, Garcia was still on the line.

"I'll call you back!" he shouted, then shut the phone off and ran for the woods and his team.

* * *

Hotch raced dangerously forward in the dark woods, the blood rushing in his ears as he ran. One hand holding his gun, the other hand holding his small flashlight high which he tried to aim ahead as he continually swept at any branches in his way.

The light barely broke through the darkness so he was relying more on sound than sight, so when Rossi's voice echoed through his earpiece, he yanked it off; he couldn't afford even one distraction as he listened for which way Ezral was going. He kept moving forward, stumbling dangerously but picking up his pace at the sound of dried branches snapping up ahead. This was one Unsub he wasn't about to let slip out of his hands.

Knowing the woods as he did, Mason had kept moving purposely not in a straight path, angling left and right - deeper and deeper into the woods. He wanted the man in his singular purpose to outrun his teammates who most likely were following him; but what was going to happen was between him and The Agent. Mason wanted him so deep into the woods with no idea of how far in he actually was. A smile grew as he knew Hotchner would not stop chasing after him no matter what.

Soon enough Mason finally arrived at where he was running to, a large tree near a rocky drop-off leading down to where the woods continued below. When he was done with his nemesis he would toss his body off the drop for his people to find.

He scaled the tree quickly and waited; he liked being up there, waiting to pounce on his prey. He didn't have to wait long; as the moon once again moved from behind the clouds. Like a stage curtain opening, sure enough suddenly there he was; Mr. Serious one-helluva-tracker Agent slowly moving under him just past the tree, his breathing loud but steady in the quiet of the woods, his attention totally focused on the path ahead.

_Most likely trying to listen to which way I went._ Smirked Mason to himself.

Gripping his knife, he leapt from the tree knocking Hotchner face down to the ground, his gun flying from his grip into the darkness and smashing against a nearby tree; the flashlight following suit, bouncing off something hard and sputtering out.

Mason raised his arm, ready to slam the knife into Hotchner's back, when the agent surprised him by bucking suddenly and twisting to the side. Mason lost ground slipping off and he scrambled to his feet, Hotchner suddenly in front of him punching him.

Shocked, he lost the grip on his knife and it fell to the ground; his anger escalated and Mason growled punching back.

Their fight was a silent one, two silhouettes in the moonlit woods, the only sound the smack of fist against flesh and the heavy grunts of both men, neither of whom would stand down.

Blocking one of Hotchner's punches, Mason kneed him in the groin; and as the man instinctively bent forward, Mason barreled into him shoving the agent away and onto the ground. Keeping one eye on the downed man, he looked around quickly, searching for his knife. He caught the silver glimmer of his blade nearby and grabbed it, turning his full attention on Hotchner and ran at him.

_This was a moment he'd relish._

Moments earlier, Hotch had gasped as he pulled himself into a fetal position, tears forming at the side of his eyes; the sharpness of the pain he was feeling blurring everything else around him.

_Breathe!…Breathe!..._ he urged himself.

Rossi's face flickered in his mind and Hotch cursed himself for removing his ear piece; it lay squished behind his neck and the cold ground. He struggled to locate it in the darkness, he needed to put it back on…he needed to tell Rossi…he needed his team...he needed…

The rush of crunching twigs snapped him into sudden awareness all blurriness gone; Hotch's eyes flashed.

_He_ ' _s coming_ …

Just as Mason reached the agent, the man suddenly turned onto his back and lifted one leg using Mason's momentum against him; shoving his foot against Mason's chest and grabbing onto the wrist of his knife hand, hoping to pull the man forward and over him to the ground. In that split second, Mason with his free hand clamped down hard on the agent’s shoulder and both men's eyes widened, gasping simultaneously as they realized that in the heat of their fight they had gotten too close to the drop; in one fluid moment they both rolled off the edge.

With no chance of gaining their footing, they experienced free-fall for a moment and then suddenly the rocky ground smashed into them; their bodies smacking heavily against it. Pulled apart by gravity, they half rolled half bounced down the slope until coming to a rest at the bottom, neither of them moving.

The only sound came from the cool night breeze making its way through the treetops.

* * *

Slowly, Mason shifted raising his head; disoriented, he could feel blood trickling down the side of his face. With a groan he pulled himself up into a sitting position and looked around, a smile forming on his bloody face when he saw the unmoving body of the agent a few feet away.

Mason slowly made his way over and dropped to his knees next to the man, his smile widening even more as he stared at the side of the lifeless man's head which was covered in blood, blood that looked black in the moonlight.

"Ding-dong...you're dead." he whispered with a smile that suddenly dropped from his mouth as he heard a soft groan as the lifeless man suddenly started to move, his body twitching.

Muttering a slow long curse Mason looked around for his knife. Not finding it, he glanced a fist sized rock that was in reach and with no hesitation he grabbed it smashing it against Hotchner's head; the man’s body immediately going still.

He raised the rock once more ready to beat the older man to death with it when he suddenly stopped. In the cool moonlit darkness of the night, looking at the man beneath him he realized that he wasn't finished with him yet. This death was too easy, he wanted him to suffer…he wanted him to be aware of what was happening.

Mason wanted him to pay, wanted to wipe the all-knowing look off the man's face; because of this man's persistence he had almost been caught. He dropped the rock and ripped away the bloody earpiece he noticed resting near the man's head then quickly rummaged through Hotchner's pockets until he found his wallet and credentials, throwing everything including the agent's phone which he turned off then smashed into the hard ground, as far as he could into the brush.

Then he grabbed the man’s limp body, hefted him up and over his shoulder scowling at the pain from the wounds on his own body; and with one last scan for his missing knife headed towards a hidden path less than a mile away that he had kept camouflaged in case he had to make a quick get away without being seen.

He smiled to himself. He was way smarter than Agent Aaron Hotchner and before he killed him, he was going to make sure the man knew that.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

With daybreak came the massive search for Hotch. JJ and Garcia had arrived at the house a few hours before and had been on the phone and computer throughout the night coordinating the search; their leader was out there somewhere and they were going to find him.

Garcia shook her head at Rossi as she looked up from her computer; the GPS on Hotch's phone wasn't working or he had shut his phone off, which he never did. Rossi was hoping they could have tracked him down that way.

At the first light of day, county officers along with the BAU team sans their leader headed out into the woods pairing off to follow the grid search map created by JJ.

About an hour into the search, the officer paired with Rossi found Hotch's gun at the base of a tree and Rossi's heart sank. They searched nearby calling out Hotch's name to no avail. Calling in the find, Rossi looked fearfully at the large drop-off up ahead, hoping to God that they wouldn't find Hotch's body at the bottom of it.

Finding a safer place to maneuver, the officer and Rossi slowly made their way down the slope, the rest of the team radioing in that they were on their way.

It was Prentiss who spotted Hotch's belongings in the brush.

"Here!" she shouted, worry evident in her voice. The team started to move to where she was pointing, when Morgan stopped, something had caught his eye.

"Guys!"

Eyes turned to Morgan who was on one knee, a hand covering his mouth shaking his head slowly in denial.

A large hunting knife was jammed in the crevice of two large rocks and nearby, splattered blood stains on the rough rock strewn ground.

_Please God, not Aaron's!_ Rossi thought as he glanced upward at the top of the high slope, his mind imagining the horrific possibility of what might have happened.

Morgan stood up, turning slowly in a circle taking in the surrounding area.

"Hotch!" he shouted. "Hotch! Aaron! …Can you hear me?"

Only the birds in the treetops answered back.

* * *

"We should have looked for him earlier!" argued Morgan.

They were back in the county sheriff's office; after hours of searching for Hotch they came up empty. The blood on the rocks was confirmed as both Hotch's and Ezral's, and with Hotch's gun and belongings left behind they could only assume that the suspect had taken their leader.

If Ezral was the one more badly hurt, Hotch would have brought him in already and if Hotch was dead Ezral most likely would have left his body to be found.

"I tried to follow him...he wouldn't answer me...the damn trees swallowed him up in seconds." Rossi's face was laden with guilt as he leaned against the desk staring at the board set up with all the info they had on Ezral.

"Wouldn't answer...or maybe couldn't, Rossi. It was too dark to see anything, we could have been walking into a trap." stated Reid, glancing at Morgan before he turned his gaze back to the same board Rossi stared at.

"Yeah, just like Hotch did." muttered Morgan, “We should have kept looking..."

Garcia poked her head into the office.

"I thought you might be hungry." She held up a bag of sandwiches from a nearby deli. "I had one of the officers go on a run."

Morgan smiled sadly, "Thanks baby-girl."

"My pleasure."

She moved to the table placing the wrapped sandwiches neatly down.

"Garcia, has..." started Rossi, unwrapping one of the sandwiches.

"No sir, I've checked and re-checked. I'm even running a program right now to check over the stuff I already checked in case I missed checking something, which I never do." She saw the look of defeat on their faces.

"But don't worry...I haven't given up. We'll find Bossman, we'll bring him home. I'm sure of that!" Her voice held more hope than her heart, but Garcia forced a smile.

"I'm sure of that." she repeated more softly, grasping Morgan's shoulder lightly. He gently patted her hand.

"Okay, enough, I'm off… I'll let you know the moment I have an update." With a fancy turn in her bright yellow pumps, she left the room.

Rossi smiled slightly. "I'm happy she's on this team."

Morgan nodded as he tossed Reid a sandwich. "So am I…so am I."

* * *

The cellar was moldy, damp, but Mason smiled as he clicked the handcuffs into place. He had stripped the agent down to his boxers, dropping him onto the floor in a corner of the room and handcuffed the man behind his back to the wall.

"Not so high and mighty now are you, Agent Hotchner?" he grinned.

After leaving the path, Mason had made his way to an old truck he kept hidden near a back road for emergency situations like the very one he was in. He dumped Hotchner's unconscious body in the bed of the truck covering him with a tarp, then drove until he left the county far behind; then many more miles after that until reaching a small remote house that he used as a second base, a home away from home so-to-speak.

Mason had come across the dilapidated house a few weeks back, abandoned and in need of heavy repair. Using a generator for power and cleaning up the place he had made himself at home. He had no ties to this place, so the FBI wouldn't know about it which was exactly what he wanted.

"You have anything to say to me?" Mason asked the unconscious man. Hotchner lay quiet, so Mason kicked him in the stomach.

"Okay then." He turned off the one swinging light bulb and stomped up the stairs slamming the door behind him.

A few minutes later a soft groan echoed from the dark cellar. Hotch's eyes fluttered open then slowly closed.

* * *

JJ stood in the doorway to the small office Garcia had situated herself in typing furiously away on her computer. Seeing she was oblivious to her presence, JJ walked in pulling up a chair.

"Anything?" she asked softly, setting a mug of freshly brewed coffee down for the IT tech.

"No, there's nothing! I'd tell you if there was something!"

Frustrated, Garcia glanced at JJ, then at the mug, then back at her screen, her hands never leaving the keyboard.

"I...I'm sorry J.J. I ...we have officers checking all of Ezral's old haunts and re-interviewing everyone who knows him; but it's like...he just fell off the earth...and took our Bossman with him!"

"He may still be alive, Garcia."

"But...but it's going on twenty-four hours and we know what usually happens to abductees by now. And...and Jack, who's going to tell Jack?"

JJ bit her lip, holding her sorrow at bay. Hotch's son had recently lost his mother, he couldn't lose his father too.

After finding out who the officer was who gave away Ezral's name to the press, JJ used her contacts and within an hour the officer had been fired; any pension in his future doubtful. He had been trying to impress a woman of all things by showing how much he knew about the case.

Hotch could be dead because of a man's ego.

"We'll watch out for Jack, Penelope. He's not going to lose his dad. Hotch will find a way to get back to us, you can count on that."

Garcia nodded, "He's Papa Bear...he's _gotta_ come back to us." she whispered.

JJ stood and squeezed Garcia's shoulder. "I'll let you get back to work." She straightened her jacket and left the room hoping the fear she was feeling would not show too much on her face. She was the BAU's front person and she would keep up a determined front while hiding her dread over the loss of her boss and friend.

* * *

He was flying.

The night's cool breeze rustling his clothes and he felt like he could fly forever, then suddenly the ground was beneath him bringing with it an explosion of pain. Hotch gasped, his eyes snapping open, then he flinched as something brushed against his face.

Blinking slowly, he tried to focus, but found himself surrounded by darkness; faint squeaking noises and his stuttered breath the only things breaking the silence around him. He groaned heavily, the pain he was feeling like shattered glass throughout his body. Another brush against his face made him more alert and he drew his head back; the movement causing a kaleidoscope of colours to splash against his eyesight.

"Wha…whas…" he garbled, the words alone sending another wave of pain shooting through him, his head throbbing.

Biting his lip against the pain he struggled upward until he was leaning against an unseen wall, his legs stretched out in front of him; he could feel the cold metal of the restraints against his wrists as he yanked forward feebly.

"'H'llo?" the word hung in the darkness, his voice scraping across his throat like a razor causing him to cough violently.

Hearing a noise above him, he glanced upward as a sudden light from an open doorway appeared, making him squint; a small staircase coming into view.

_Someone was coming…_

"H-hey...h-help…" he rasped.

Mason sauntered down the stairs and clicked on the overhead light, sneering at the sight of the disheveled agent. Kicking a rat that was scurrying past aside, he squatted down next to the man.

“Bout time you woke up…"

"My…m'clothes. Wh-where'm I?" Hotch shivered.

"You're with me." Mason's smile did not reach his eyes.

Hotchner's face showed his confusion.

"Who...who r'you?"

Mason blinked, anger surging forward in him like a tidal wave.

"Who _am_ I?"

He grabbed Hotch by the sides of his head slamming it against the wall, his face inches away from Hotch's pain glazed eyes.

"Do you think this is some sort of game?! You thought you had me, but now, I have _you_ …and I can do _anything_ I want to you! You're nothing! A nobody!"

Specks of darkness encroached on Hotch's vision as he panted, struggling to stay conscious; suddenly his eyes widened.

"W-wait…oh no...my…tell me...my name...I don't kn-know...I...!" With a panicked gasp Hotch's eyes rolled into his head and he fell silent.

Mason stared at the unconscious man for a moment then sneered and shoved his head aside, Hotchner slipping sideways to the ground.

_He doesn't know his name? Could be a trick…_

Mason stood glaring at the agent, then yanked off the light and headed up the stairs.

He'd have to think about this…

* * *

Prentiss found Rossi standing by the edge of the woods, the sky a rich orange as the sun slouched to its bed.

Over the last two days, the team had conducted several more sweeps of the woods along with the help of county officers. There was still no sign of Hotch, no more clues to his whereabouts, adding to the worry over their leader's well-being.

Prentiss stood next to him, staring into the woods. "Strauss called." she said. "She wants us back at the office, there's another case."

Rossi slowly nodded, his eyes never leaving the woods where his friend disappeared.

“Tell her… I'm not going _anywhere_."

Prentiss glanced at him, then turned and walked back to the house.

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

Mason grabbed the beer bottle draining the last of it; shirtless, he scowled at the bruises on his arms and torso. The wound on his head had stopped bleeding a while ago but still throbbed deeply in chorus with the rest of his bruises. Opening another beer, he tossed back half a dozen aspirin with the first swig; his sobriety slowly losing itself to drunken anger. Finally, he looked over at the couch across from him and sneered, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand; he had come up with the plan a few hours earlier.

At thirty, he was younger than Hotchner and just as tall but more muscular; he had a kind of hardworking cowboy aura about him according to the whispers he used to hear from some women. With dark hair and almond brown eyes, he didn't stand out on women's "danger" radar until it was too late for them.

But his looks would come in _very_ handy with the plan he had in mind.

The FBI had found him because they thought they knew him; they thought they knew what he was thinking, why he did what he did and how he did it.

Well…he'd tweak their version of him, and the agent lying on the couch was going to help him do it. He'd play along with Hotchner's I-can't-remember-my-name scenario for now and see how things went. Mason leaned over and closed a nearby drawer that held a vial and an empty syringe which he had used on the man after moving him to the couch; some liquid confusion to help his cause.

He stood and turned on the TV, pressing play for the video to start. Soon the sounds of a snuff film started up, the moans and screams making him grin.

He sauntered over to the couch and grabbed the glass of water sitting near it.

After cleaning him up and dressing him in some extra clothing that he had kept stashed in the home, he had dragged Mr. Serious Agent from the cellar onto the couch.

Over the past few days, Mason had released his frustration on the handcuffed man, using him as a punching bag. He had loved the pained grunts and the confused and desperate looks the older man had given him, between the punches a silent often drunk Mason would bombard him with. Punching out any leftover assured looks or esteem the broken man before him may have had still knocking around somewhere deep inside.

"Time to wake up!" he shouted and threw the cold water on the man's face.

* * *

Hotch's world burst from quiet darkness into static chaos as he gasped into wakefulness, swiping a hand across his face trying to clear his vision.

"Wha...s-stop…"

"Hey, you deaf!? It's time to get up!" chuckled Mason.

Hotch blinked rapidly looking at the man standing over him.

"Wha...Whas hap'ning?" he murmured, slowly pulling himself into a sitting position. He felt strange...like his head was plugged with cotton. The room spun around him making him blink rapidly; gasping, he tried to steady himself.

"You were sleeping so damn long, Cullen...thought you were dead." said the man.

Mason watched as Mr. Serious Agent stared at him.

"I-I couldn't move...you...hurting me..."

Hotch winced, slowly touching the side of his face, it hurt to touch. One eye was throbbing, his lips felt swollen.

"Yeah, I guess I did. Had to lock you up for a bit and set you straight after you went crazy on me, don't you remember?"

Mason pointed to the wound on his own head. "You sure pull a good punch, got the bruises to show it too." he said motioning to his torso. "You were a wild man, could barely hold you down!"

He cocked his head to the side pretending to examine Hotch.

"Damn, they really messed you up in there!” he exclaimed pointing at Hotch's head.

He noticed the agent's eyes slowly move around the room, landing on the television, his eyes widening.

"Cullen…you with me?" Mason snapped his fingers in front of Hotch's face.

"C-Cullen?" frowned Hotch turning back to him. "Who...who r'you?" he breathed out softly.

Mason leaned over grasping the man's shoulder, causing the agent to wince in pain.

"It's me idiot, Mason...your brother."

Hotch slowly shook his head, pushing himself off the couch; swaying heavily he almost face planted before Mason grabbed him by the arm and pushed him back down.

"Nice move…feel like trying that again? Maybe you'll smash your head on the edge of the table or something."

Confused dark brown eyes looked up at Mason who nudged Hotch on the shoulder as he sat down next to him.

"Relax, it'll all come back to you." he nodded at the TV and grinned. "Hey...your favourite part's coming up!"

The sound of a woman's guttural scream echoed throughout the room mingling with Hotch's stuttered breath.

* * *

Three weeks had passed and the BAU team was back in Quantico.

After the second week Strauss had threatened to replace them if they hadn't returned; Rossi had no plans on leaving and couldn't help but smile to himself when the rest of the team followed suit.

But after too many days had passed, with no leads at all except for some more dried blood stains of Hotch's and Ezral's near some generic tire treads found on a back road path that led nowhere; Strauss promised them that the case to locate Hotch would be kept open. So the team reluctantly returned with hopes that with the more assets they had on hand back in the home office that their team leader would be found quickly.

Morgan sat watching Reid who for the past fifteen minutes was sitting at his desk, yanking at a rubber band around his wrist with his eyes closed.

“Reid?"

No response.

"Reid, man…what are you doing?"

Reid slowly opened his eyes and turned to him, Morgan frowning at the bags under his friend’s eyes.

"You know," started the younger man. "There's a high probability that Hotch is dead...that Ezral buried him somewhere we'd never find him and just wants us to suffer with the not knowing."

Morgan frowned at how detached Reid sounded and he walked over and sat on the edge of his desk.

"Yeah...and there's a high probability that he's holding Hotch somewhere and we _will_ find him. Remember, Hotch's blood wasn't on the knife we found and Ezral was hurt too, we found his blood too, Reid."

Reid kept yanking at the rubber band.

"Kid, when was the last time you got any real sleep?"

Morgan glanced towards the meeting room where the team had set up a map of the county where Hotch disappeared, along with printouts of all the information they had about Ezral and anyone associated with him.

"I took a nap in the break-room."

"No, Reid. I mean _real_ sleep. We need you alert man, we're all running ourselves ragged here."

The team had been working double time, still trying to find Hotch while working other cases. The fatigue Morgan felt, he had also noticed on the rest of the team.

"You're the brains, kid, you can't fizzle out on us; you need some rest."

Reid's eyes widened and Morgan could see the fear and abandonment the young man was feeling.

"But Morgan, what if he _is_ dead?"

Morgan sighed heavily, lowering his gaze to the ground.

_Then this team would never be the same again._ He thought to himself.

"Come on kid, I'm driving you home. We'll start fresh in the morning."

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

Mason stood by the window silently watching Hotch who was standing outside looking up at the afternoon sky. Mason huffed, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. The man had done a lot of that lately...standing...and staring...like some freakin’ robot. Over the past three weeks, he would catch the agent staring at him at times so intently he could practically hear the gears turning in the man's head.

Mason thought he had lost him a week earlier when he came out of the washroom only to find the front door open and no agent in sight.

Swearing, he had grabbed his gun, jumped in the truck and headed down to the main road where he had found Hotchner slowly walking, head down, hands in pocket; Mason slowed the truck as he drove up next to him.

_Where you goin_ ' _, Cullen?_

He had his left hand on the wheel and his right hand on the gun in his lap. If this wasn't working, he would blow the man away right there making sure his team found his body, one piece at a time.

When Hotchner didn't answer, he continued as he slowly drove forward.

_Do you know where you_ ' _re going?_

_Do you have anyone to go to?_

_Do you know anyone who cares for you more than I do, big brother?_

The agent stopped suddenly, glancing sideways at Mason, lips tense, his dark eyes burning into the younger man's; Mason could hear his heavy breathing. Then just as quickly, Hotchner’s face dropped, eyes turning away and as Mason pulled the truck to a stop and hid his gun, he watched as the agent slowly open the door to the passenger side and get in.

“ _Where were you goin’_ _, Cullen?_ " he had whispered as he turned the truck around. He had glanced over at the man who was staring straight ahead, his hands curled into fists on his thighs, the bruises on his face just about faded away. The drive back was a silent one. When they had pulled up to the house, Hotchner had slowly exited the truck then turned looking at Mason through the open passenger side door.

" _I_ ' _m trying to remember._ " He had murmured. " _It_ ' _s...it_ ' _s not coming. Th-there_ ' _s nothing._ "

Mason had hid the delight he felt from those words and outwardly frowned deeply. (… _and the Academy Award for best acting goes to_ … _)_

" _I know, it_ ' _s cuz you_ ' _re trying too hard, Cullen...you gotta relax a little. Stop straining your brain!_ " He had smirked pointing at the side of his head, when the man had just stared at him. Mason sighed and continued.

" _Just take what I say as the Gospel okay? I wouldn_ ' _t steer you wrong, I_ ' _m your brother...remember that, all right?_ "

Hotchner had stared at him for a moment more, seemingly analyzing Mason's words, then had nodded.

"All right."

* * *

Trying to convince Mr. Serious Agent about anything even with his memory loss was harder than Mason thought. The man had one hell of a stubborn will, but he was seeing a breakthrough as the days progressed.

With the barrage of snuff tapes he kept running and the occasional dosage of drugs in the man's food and the fact that Mason was the only person the agent had seen in weeks; he could see he was wearing the man down, he was losing himself to the power of Mason's words.

“Why can't I remember you?"

“After what the BAU did to you? It's a miracle you're still able to put two words together!"

"BAU, the people who took me?"

"The people who _stole_ you from me.” corrected Mason with a nod.

They were sitting across from each other at the kitchen table. Two open bottles of beer sat untouched, sweating in the heat of the over head lamp.

"Behavioral Analysis Unit, glorified FBI pigs in suits. They tried to make you think you were someone you weren't, they _tortured_ you!" A rented look of worry slipped over Mason's face hiding the hatred he was feeling for the man sitting across from him; he continued, forcing the mask to remain in place.

"I had to restrain you when I got you back. You were seriously messed up; fists flying everywhere, cursin' my name...even spitting on me!"

Hotch slowly wiped the sweat from his bottle of beer his eyes far away, but then they flicked to Mason's and though full of so many questions…they were clear, apologetic.

"I'm…I'm sorry I did that. How'd you get me back?"

"I'd go through hell to find you, brother, don't you know that? I'd kill for you...and you'd do the same for me."

Mason took a sip of his beer as he watched Hotchner frown and lean back in his chair subtly nodding.

"What did they want from me?"

Mason had resisted rolling his eyes. _Damn, the man asked a lot of questions!_

"They hoped that you'd tell them where to find me, but you didn't. They messed with your head big time for weeks, even making you think you were the leader of their team…that you _wanted_ to catch me! But in the end you didn't say a word. Cullen, you kept me safe."

"But…but why were they looking for you?"

Mason who had just taken another sip of his beer had grinned then, slowly returning the bottle to the table and leaned back in his chair.

" _Us_ , they were looking for _us_ , brother. They already had you, they wanted you so you could get to me. Don't you remember _anything_?"

The agent shook his head, his brow tightly furrowed.

"They were looking for us because we love the ladies, Cullen…

We love to see them bleed…"

* * *

The sun was warm, the breeze cool as the pressure built in Hotch's head.

_I can_ ' _t...I-I can_ ' _t_ …

He stared at the sky trying to see past the wall in his mind, but could only hear Mason's voice in his head.

His name was Cullen.

_Cullen_...

He was Mason's older brother.

That felt right...being an older brother.

_Must protect him...keep him safe_ …

They had taken him from his brother, but his brother fought to get him back.

They were together again and...

…they loved to see the ladies bleed.

"My name is Cullen." Hotch murmured, rubbing his temples trying to ease the ache he was feeling.

The headache was back again, a strong one. Those people…they really must have screwed him over good.

He chuckled sadly.

The BAU, Mason told him he'd have to stay away from them.

Like he'd want anything to do with the people who wanted to hurt them. He'd stay with his brother…to protect him, because that's what big brothers do.

As for the ladies...

With Mason's help, he'd get back to the way things were.

Hotch lowered his hands to his sides. "My name is Cullen." he said with a new sense of certainty…

...and a hatred started to grow for the people who had made him forget who he was.

**TBC**

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

"Cullen, you need to relax..."

Another week had passed when Mason had finally decided it was time to introduce his new "brother" to the fine art of murder.

They were in a van that Mason had bought cheaply with cash a few towns over several days before, and were slowly casing the streets a town over from the house, looking for a target.

It was two a.m. and if Mason felt alert and wired, the man next to him looked like he was running on pure caffeine.

"This isn't right." was the curt reply he got back.

Mason rolled his eyes and continued driving.

Hotch pressed his hand down on his leg trying to get it from moving, but it's like it had a mind of its own; though he was quiet, his mind was racing and Mason had sensed it.

_This couldn't be right, but his brother was so sure…_

His emotions confusing him, he turned to Mason.

"What ...what if I mess up?"

"What if…seriously Cullen, you think I expect you to remember exactly what to do? Your brain is still Swiss cheese...we'll take this slow."

Hotch bit his lip and looked out the passenger window.

"This is what we do." he muttered, trying hard to quell the discomfort he was feeling.

"This is what we do." echoed Mason. "Don't worry, you'll understand soon enough why we do it. Once you experience the feeling again, you'll understand everything, brother."

* * *

As they drove by a bowling alley, a side door to the building opened and a young woman walked out, quickly locking the door behind her.

"I think we got ourselves a winner!" chuckled Mason as he slowed the van and watched as the woman got in her car; the sound of the car engine not turning over was beautiful to his ears.

Hotch sat up in his seat as his brother drove around, parking by the side of the building. Mason reached behind him grabbing the tire iron from the floor of the van and quickly got out.

"Get the back doors open and be ready." he whispered to Hotch.

Gripping the tire iron he started round the corner of the building watching the woman who was now out of her car, behind the open hood trying to figure out what the problem was. He could hear her cursing and grinned...he turned back to the van to say something and saw the passenger seat was still filled with Mr. Bouncing Angst.

He strode back to the van.

"Dammit, Cullen...get movin'!" he whispered harshly through the driver's side window.

The older man stared tight lipped, eyes wide at him.

"I will teach you your shape, brother," hissed Mason. "You've forgotten, but I'll help you remember…this is the first step...now get the damn doors open!"

Hotch flinched at the harshness in Mason's voice then quickly slipped from the passenger seat.

Mason moved back to the corner and turned it walking quickly but quietly towards the woman's car, happy to hear the soft creak of the van's back doors being opened.

She had her back to him, arguing with someone on her phone, he could hear snippets of her words as he drew closer.

_Car won_ ' _t_ _…_

_... late...Gotta come get me._

_Walk home?..._

_No, now...right now!_

As he drew silently closer, his blood raced through his veins, a crescendo to his inner music; a nearby streetlight spotlighting his joy.

She was blonde!

He reached her as she ended the call and as she turned around, the frustration evident on her face, he was upon her; the climax of the tire iron smashing her across the head causing Mason to pant in excitement.

Her body dropped to the ground like a rag doll, all the life flying from her in that brief moment.

Mason picked her up and throwing her over his shoulder, he quickly made his way back to the van; the bloody tire iron still gripped tightly in his hand.

Coming around to the back of the van, Mason could see that Mr. Bouncing Angst seemed to be somewhat calmer. He was leaning against the side of the building, both hands in his pockets with his eyes closed.

"Cullen…" growled Mason.

He could hear Hotchner breathing heavily…murmuring something under his breath.

Well hell, he wasn't sure whether to up the man's drug intake or syphon it off the way he was acting; he figured he'd decide on this once they got the girl back to the house.

"Do you want us to get caught, Cullen? Do you want to go to jail?"

The man’s eyes flew open. "No!"

"So, help me then!"

He stared at the body over Mason's shoulder.

"Is she…dead?"

"Not yet brother, now get in and help me with her!"

Hotchner flinched, then jumped in the back of the van and helped pull the unconscious woman in.

Once in, Mason threw the tire iron in after her then slammed the doors shut, ran around and got into the van starting the engine.

"Hey," he turned to a now Mr. Silent Angst who was still in the back of the van with the woman. "There's some rope back there. You tie her up…don't disappoint me."

There was silence for a beat, then he heard it –

"Okay...okay Mason."

Mason grinned as the van moved off under the night sky.

* * *

Danica Mueller groaned as she slowly opened her eyes.

_What the hell?_

Alertness slammed into her when she realized she didn't know where she was or who the man was who was standing directly in front of her.

That her mouth was taped shut only heightened the fear that was blossoming inside of her. She was standing upright, pulled taught and tied against some kind of post.

When the man stepped toward her, her breathing went from rapid to fall down panic.

"Finally." the man said.

The light from a rope bulb bounced off the walls causing shadows to flick throughout the room they were in.

_I'm going to die...oh...please...somebody...help me!_

The man patted her on the cheek and turned to someone in the shadows.

"Doesn't it have pretty hair?" he asked.

Another man stepped from a corner of the room into the light, causing Danica to flinch in terror.

_Don_ ' _t hurt me...don't hurt me..!_

This man looked older, and completely out of it.

His eyes were wide; a look of awe, fear and confusion all smashing down on his expression.

Hotch felt…he felt…awesome. This feeling...maybe it's what Mason wanted him to remember…he was finally beginning to understand.

Mason stepped aside and watched the agent; he had laced Hotchner's beer while they were waiting for the woman to wake up...and now watched as the man's emotions were all over the place, smiling, frowning…like he didn't know what he was feeling.

Hotch smiled at the woman; reaching out to gently touch her hair but stopped when he saw her flinch.

"Blonde, I like blondes." he frowned for a moment then sighed, smiling at a fleeting image of a laughing blonde woman in his mind; he nodded to himself.

"She's pretty."

"No, Cullen...no. _It's_ pretty…It. When we catch them, they soon become nothing but skin and screams...blood and bone."

Hotch frowned as he stared at the scared woman.

"What?" he whispered.

Mason sighed. "I'll show you."

He pushed Hotch aside and stepped toward the bound woman, a large knife suddenly appearing in his hands.

Danica's eyes grabbed onto Hotch's and held tight.

_Save me save me save me!_

"Mason, n-no, s-stop..." Hotch stuttered. He knew something was wrong but his mind wouldn't hold on to exactly what. It was like his brain was playing ping pong with itself.

Mason didn't hold back and using the knife cut open Danica's shirt, the buttons popping off and flying into the dark corners of the room; the large blade then moving across her stomach in a slicing motion.

Danica's muffled screams reverberated off the cellar walls as Mason sliced a wide strip of skin across her stomach, blood oozing from the wound; he held up the skin to Hotch who stared at it, mouth agape.

"Skin." stated Mason.

He dropped the skin to the ground and spun back to the terrified woman, yanking the tape off her mouth. Her loud shriek was like nails on a chalkboard.

"Screams." He raised his eyebrows as he stated the obvious to Hotch who had started to breathe quickly and couldn't pull his eyes away.

Mason pointed at the blood oozing from the wound on Danica's stomach.

"Not. Quite. Enough." he smiled at Hotch; then in one swift motion stabbed Danica through the wound in her stomach and twisted the blade.

Danica gasped, her eyes opening wide in agony then a moment later rolling up into her head; her blood pouring from the wound onto the floor.

The younger man held his hand under the knife to catch some of the blood against his palm; then held up his blood soaked hand to Hotch.

"Blood." Mason said with a smile.

Hotch couldn't breathe…

"And of course..." Mason looked around grabbing a heavy wrench from a tool box on a table in a corner of the room, and glancing at Hotch for a moment turned and smashed the wrench onto the lifeless woman's collarbone...again and again.

And suddenly an image flashed in Hotch's mind; he was bending over someone, his hands smashing their head into the ground over and over again. He felt the heat of their blood on him, he felt their face break apart in his hands, an energy hot and overwhelming racing through him like a freight train as he did this...how he never wanted to stop doing it.

Hotch gasped coming back to himself; he watched as Mason backed away from the woman, jagged bone piercing through her skin.

"Bone." finished Mason with flourish.

He stared at Hotch for a moment, seeing what he needed to see.

"You're starting to get it now, aren't you brother?"

Hotch couldn't pull his eyes away from the dead woman.

"Sh-she's…"

" _It_..." Stressed Mason.

Hotch blinked. "It-it's skin and screams … blood and bone." his voice was soft, far away.

Mason touched Hotch's chin with his bloody hand, turning his face to his.

"That's right brother...with our power we make it so."

He smiled then turned and pulled the blade from the dead woman's stomach.

"Do you remember what we do next?"

A voice popped into Hotch's head…

_…was found nude, wrapped in chains at the bottom of the lake._

"We...we strip the body and dump it in the lake." Hotch replied looking at Mason, his eyes seeking approval.

Mason's eyes flashed...realizing that the information about how to dump the body most likely came from the agent's own file on him; his last kill he had dumped the blonde in a lake.

This was getting better by the minute.

"That's right, brother...that's right." he smiled and rested his hand on Hotch's shoulder.

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

When Morgan heard that Strauss had called him into her office, he held off going for as long as he could.

Garcia met him in the hallway outside the office after the meeting.

"Did she?" she asked hesitantly.

He nodded, feeling torn.

"You're looking at the Acting Unit Chief of the BAU, but _only_ until Hotch is found."

He leaned against the wall. "I didn't want it this way, Penelope." he said with a sigh.

Garcia frowned slightly, moving over to the wall, their shoulders touching.

"I know, I know you didn't want the role this way, but what if she went outside the team? Then Boss man might never get his job back when he returns. It's kinda good that she wanted you in the position, you know? Keep it in the team…plus you being the badass super-agent that you are my chocolate prince…with you in charge...we're bound to find Hotch any day now."

She turned to Morgan, eyes shiny with unshed tears but with a smile on her face; she nudged his shoulder playfully with hers.

"Come on, let's go tell the others."

* * *

"You were never much of a beer lover."

Hotch smiled and swallowed down the last of his whiskey as he looked around the packed bar.

"I don't mind beer...just wanted something a little stronger."

"Yeah, well you've already had five of the "little stronger”, you puke in the truck, I'm gonna kill you." muttered Mason.

Hotch grinned as he gazed around the room searching for a flash of blonde.

Ever since they dumped the body in a river a town over a few days back, Hotch found he was having dreams of a laughing blonde woman. He couldn't see her face but the anger he felt every time he thought of her made him curious. When he told Mason about it, his reply was a sly grin.

"You've broken a lot of hearts and bodies, brother. You're probably flashing back, that's all. You know that anger you feel? Hold onto it. It’s empowering and will protect you if anyone decides to come after you."

"Come after me?"

"Yeah, remember...the FBI pigs?" replied Mason sarcastically, his eyes narrowing watching for Hotch's reaction.

Hotch's mind suddenly flashed to an image of two faceless men grabbing hold of him as he struggled, a fire blazing in the near distance. His face dropped, his dark eyes grew intense.

"No, I won't let _anyone_ take me again."

"Good...good, glad to hear that. Looks like you need another drink, more whiskey?" Mason stood.

"Nah, I'll take a beer this time…but I'll get it." Hotch stood. "…and one for you too." he finished, glancing down at Mason who had returned to his seat, a small smile on his face.

Hotch started towards the bar when a large drunken man bumped into him. The three beers the man was holding splashed onto Hotch's shirt as the mugs fell to the ground with a crash.

"Look what you made me do!" slurred the man. He shoved Hotch who was about to shove him right back, when all of a sudden a blur whizzed by him.

It was Mason who was suddenly barreling into the unsuspecting drunk throwing him off his feet, landing punches that slammed the man's head into the ground. Hotch could hear soft grunts coming from Mason and could just make out some words.

"No one…

…touches….

….he's m'brother…

…no one touches him."

Hotch stood in shock for a moment, then stepped forward and pulled Mason off the unfortunate drunk.

"Okay...okay...enough." Hotch said, looking at the moaning, writhing, man on the ground whose face was covered in blood, his nose most likely broken.

The crowd in the bar had grown silent and he could see two more very large drunk men making their way over.

_Probably the idiot_ ' _s buddies._

"Okay, Ali…time to go." Hotch turned towards the exit pulling a swaying laughing Mason with him.

* * *

"You look like hell."

It was the next morning and Hotch had his head down on the kitchen table, his eyes shut tight in pain.

"You shoulda just stuck with beer."

Hotch slowly sat up with a groan, swallowing multiple times trying to quell the continuing urge to throw up.

A bottle of Tylenol and glass of water were pushed towards him.

He glanced up at Mason who shrugged. "Don't say I never do anything for you."

Hotch shook two tablets out and swallowed them followed by some water.

"Thanks." he whispered. "For this...and for yesterday, looking out for me like you did. You should put some ice on that." he said pointing at Mason's bruised knuckles.

Mason glanced down at his hand and smiled remembering the thrill of the first punch. It worked out to his advantage, a "loyalty" box checked on the, that's-what-a-brother-would-do list that he kept handy in his mind.

"You've always watched out for me, ever since we were little and dad...well you know…thought I should return the favour." smiled Mason.

He noticed Hotch flinch slightly and he paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing then continued.

"Just wanted to say, I appreciate it."

A pained smile from Hotch.

_No, Dad...I_ ' _m sorry!_

_Please, stop...stop!_

Mason watched as Hotch's face turned a tinge of green.

"You gonna ralph, go do it in the crapper...not here."

Hotch slowly shook his head and swallowed heavily.

"Our father...hurt us? Hotch frowned as an image of someone standing over him, a belt in hand entered his mind.

_Daddy_ _issues,_ _huh?_ Thought Mason. _Figures...let's see where I can take this._

"Some of your memory coming back, Cullen? Yeah the old man knocked us around; you got the brunt of it though. As I said, you've been watching out for me for a long time; but enough about that. I was thinking it's time again for a little more fun."

"You mean…" Hotch saw the grin on Mason's face. "So soon?"

"You never had a problem with that, before. Before, I'd have to get you to space out the fun; you were pretty much ready to go every day. I was thinking this time we'd have a little _fun_ before we had our fun; if you know what I mean."

"Skin and screams, blood and bone." murmured Hotch, his expression flattening out.

"And sex...we gonna get us a hooker." grinned Mason.

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

"Danica Mueller, aged twenty-seven was pulled from the Panaqua river yesterday morning; she went missing from her place of work four days ago." stated JJ, a picture of the nude corpse up on the screen.

"Same m.o. as Mason Ezral's; skin missing, stabbed, and bludgeoned. Her body came loose from the weights tied around it and floated to the top of the river she was thrown in, his last victim he disposed of in that fashion wasn't found for over a week."

"He's never been sloppy in the disposal of his victims before…could this be a copycat?" asked Prentiss.

"Maybe Ezral wanted this one to be found." suggested Reid.

When the others looked at him curiously, he continued.

"If he wanted the body to be found, it could mean he wants us to know he's back in the game, that he's killing again." He paused hesitant to continue, the others realizing where his line of thinking was heading.

Rossi huffed softly. "Hotch is out there waiting for us to find him. We can't give up."

"No one is giving up, Rossi," Morgan said as he stood gathering his files, his mind on Hotch.

"We go to Panaqua, we find some evidence to lead us to Ezral and we get Hotch back. Wheels up in…" he paused gasping softly at what he was about to say. He shook his head quickly, not knowing why he would say that…that was Hotch's thing.

With a quick apology, he turned and strode from the room, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.

Rossi sighed, they needed Hotch back. He missed his friend and the team needed their leader; the cracks were beginning to show.

* * *

Things went sour pretty quickly. Hotch had been waiting in the motel room for Mason to return with the prostitute; sitting on the edge of the bed, he wondered why he felt so out of sorts.

_Snap out of it!_

According to his brother he should be taking pleasure in the hunt, pleasure in the thrill of the kill; he knew he had felt that thrill before, that he had blood on his hands…so what was his problem?

Annoyed with himself he stood, walking to the mirror on the dresser across from him.

His dark hair had grown long enough to tickle the back of his neck, a feeling he wasn't quite sure he was okay with. The beard he had been growing had been quickly squashed by his brother, who had called him a hobo redneck and had thrown a razor at him.

_Stubble or nothing, brother. We ain't hicks._

Hotch rubbed his hand over the sides of his clean shaven face: the jeans and dark blue shirt he was wearing, were a little well worn, but comfortable; like the clothes his brother wore.

An image of him in a suit and tie flicked through his mind causing him to chuckle softly to himself, as he turned away from his reflection and returned to the bed; sitting down on the edge and laying back closing his eyes.

" _I worked the case, Daddy._ "

Hotch's eyes flew open as he gasped then pressed his palms against them.

“You're losing it...get a grip" he muttered after a moment, sitting back up. He looked around the seedy room that Mason had gotten for their "fun." Mason had noticed his questioning look as they pulled up to the motel.

" _What?" he smiled, "We've done this before; sex, blood, the chance of getting caught...of people hearing. Brother, it's an awesome high."_

Hotch's frustration over Mason having to constantly remind him about his life because of his continual lack of memory kept him quiet.

_But could he really go through with this?_ He'd have to if he ever wanted to get back to his old self, if he ever wanted to get rid of the flicker of annoyance he saw in his brother's eyes whenever he looked at him.

The door suddenly opened and a smiling Mason slipped in with an unconscious woman over his shoulder.

"Miss me?" Mason grinned.

Hotch stood as his brother moved quickly to the bed depositing the tied up woman with no modicum of care, throwing down a small plastic bag behind her.

"Watch her, I'm going to pull the van around back." He winked and closed the door behind him.

Hotch stared at the woman; she was medium build with average looks, dressed in a short tight fitting dress; her short hair, brown.

_Wait, brown?_

"You're supposed to be blonde." he heard himself whisper.

He glanced over at the plastic bag on the bed, a small box protruding from it.

_Blonde hair dye._

_Why_ _would..?_ Hotch was tired of feeling confused, when Mason got back they'd have to talk before _anything_ happened.

He started to reach for the box of dye, when his eyes slid over the woman's face; she was awake, scared large gray eyes staring up at him.

Hotch froze, his hand hovering over her; then somewhere in between that moment of brown eyes and gray eyes meeting, he found himself suddenly starting to untie her binds.

"I'll get you out of here. Hold on...hold on." he whispered. He had almost loosened the binds around her wrists when the door suddenly opened, Mason stepping in and turning to close the door behind him.

The moment Mason turned back to the room, everyone froze. The woman and Hotch's eyes wide as they both turned to stared at Mason; the clenching of Mason's fist broke Hotch's frozen position and he held up a hand.

"Wait…" was all Hotch got out, before Mason barreled into him, knocking Hotch off the woman and slamming him into the wall on the other side of the bed. With a grunt they both fell to the floor, arms and legs tangled within each other.

The woman sat up quickly, getting out of the binds Hotch had loosened and quickly untied the binds around her ankles while the bed shook as the men on the ground knocked into it as they fought.

Once free, she slid quickly off the bed and ran to the door, slamming it open as she ran out disappearing quickly into the dark of the night.

Mason who had maneuvered himself over Hotch, glanced over the side of the bed at the sound of the door slamming open.

_The whore had escaped._

He had an arm pressed down against the agent's neck who had stopped moving and was gripping Mason's arm staring up at him.

Hotch had felt a surge of panic, he could barely breathe; Mason's muscular arm pressing against his throat. Then suddenly, he felt something deep inside him switch off and his grip relaxed on Mason's arm.

_What was he doing? He ruined everything! He had disappointed his brother_ …

"Sorry...sorry Mason…sorry, I'm sorry..." he rasped.

_He deserved this. He shouldn't have gone against him...Mason had been trying to help him_ … _and_ … _and_ _…_

_Everything was all messed up._

_Wheels up in thirty_ …

_Stop...stop_ _…_

Hotch coughed out a sad laugh as Mason removed his arm from his neck then with a punch to the side of Hotch's head propelled him into darkness.

**TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

Rossi sat at his desk, head back eyes closed.

A sigh emanated from his lips, his ears picking up the silence coming from the bullpen. He stood up and stretched, walking to his doorway and looked out; there was nothing new from Garcia. J.J, was out of her office talking quietly with Prentiss, Reid was pouring through files. Rossi turned to Morgan's… _Hotch_ ' _s_ office, the door was open, Morgan was sitting at Hotch's desk staring at the framed photo of Jack that Hotch kept there.

They hadn't found anything in Panaqua, there were no security cameras outside the bowling alley and there were no witnesses to the victim's abduction. Her car had been sent to Forensics, but Ezral's fingerprints were not found on them.

They were at a loss...but they'd never give up, they couldn't.

Rossi sighed once more, Hotch was like a son to him…

He couldn't lose him.

* * *

The following days were filled with blurry agonizing pain for Hotch.

Flickering moments of clarity found him back at the house, strapped to a cot in the cellar, shirtless, Mason hovering over him, knife in hand.

Darkness.

A flicker…

"Betrayer, you _are skin..._ "

Mason holding something thin in one hand that was covered in blood, Hotch's arm was on fire.

Darkness.

" _And screams_ …"

Did he scream?

A flicker.

" _And blood..._ "

When the knife sliced across his chest he might have screamed, but darkness claimed him too soon to remember.

_Try to relax_ …

_Your body will go numb_ …

_And it goes in so much easier if you relax_ …

… _Do you want to see my scars?_

Hotch groaned, his eyes opening slightly; unfocused, a blurry figure standing over him.

"My t-team..." he murmured, delirious.

A bark of laughter…

The figure descended, the pain spiraling Hotch into unconsciousness.

* * *

Mason trudged down the steps and turned on the overhead light. He moved over to a padlocked door and unlocked it. Swinging it open to reveal Hotchner who was sitting on the dirt floor of the too narrow closet, knees up, forehead pressed against them.

The blood stained chains around his ankles and wrists were attached to the wall.

Mason had turned his rage on Hotchner, angry over what the agent had done in the motel room; _he_ would be the "It" the whore was meant to be. He had found "It" leaving a nightclub, and decided she would have to do. The streetwalkers he had come across had looked dirty, looked like walking contracted diseases and meth users.

"It" looked cleaner, except her hair was brown.

A quick trip to the pharmacy as she lay unconscious in the back of his van, did the trick.

A box of hair dye. He was going to make Hotchner dye her hair before the fun would have begun, but then he came back to the room to find the man _actually un-tying_ their play thing.

He saw red and was going to kill him right there and then, but something in the man's eyes stopped him.

When the agent had apologized to him, Mason had actually believed him.

After he had got his fill; his cuts adding to the scars from most certainly old knife wounds across the man's lower torso… _Someone_ _else_ _hated_ _you_ _too_ , _didn_ ' _t_ _they?_

After his rage had subsided somewhat before he could get to the final smashing of Hotchner's bones, he had cleaned the man up, then chained and locked him away; he had kept him there for two days, no food or water.

"Cullen." he said gruffly, smiling when the man flinched.

Hotchner slowly looked up, the bruises on the side of his face and across his body evident in the low light, the bandages Mason used on him in need of changing.

Mason scowled at the smell emanating from the agent as he bent and unlocked his shackles and tossed the bottle of water and protein bar he had in his hand at him, the man weakly reaching for them.

"You're forgiven." Mason muttered, then turned and walked back up the stairs leaving the cellar door open.

* * *

Morgan had asked Garcia to widen her search parameters, as they were having no luck keeping with Ezral's m.o.

The team conducted interviews and interrogations searching ever searching for a clue...any clue to no avail. So the parameters were broadened even more until…something they never expected…

" _Morgan, I um…I may have intercepted an email that may have been meant for…" Garcia pointed upwards._

_Morgan stared at her, waiting. When she matched his stare in silence, he exhaled loudly. "For..?" he stressed._

" _Strauss" she mouthed silently, her lips tight with worry._

" _Garcia, what did it say?!" Morgan's voice harsh, impatient, made Garcia jump slightly._

" _Sorry...sorry! There was a report, two Unsubs in this one, at a motel_ … _Morgan, Hotch...Hotch's blood was found at the scene...the woman, she escaped!"_

* * *

The following weeks had opened up a whole new world to Hotch. It seemed so easy, so he couldn't figure out why he had made it so difficult. He couldn't bring himself yet to go through with the cult of skin and screams, blood and bone. He couldn't wield the knife yet...but he could help and Mason seemed to be okay with that.

They were up to three now, each in a different town. A happy Mason was a fun Mason; Hotch enjoyed seeing his brother smile.

Mason had showed him what to do...how to choose their prey. The housewife was easy, she had opened her door to them. The real estate agent had smiled at Hotch as they walked around the show home; she never made it home that night. The bartender, in the dive bar, her name was Maya; she was more wary. Hotch had nursed a beer for most of the night as he watched her. He had left an hour before closing moving into the shadows of the parking lot. Across the lot, Mason sat in the van and flashed his lights.

Hotch grinned in the darkness…

His brother was waiting...

Just as they expected, when the bar closed, Maya was the last to leave. As she locked the door she turned, and Hotch leaning against the side of the bar in the shadows watched as she tensed up as she spied the lone van in the parking lot, a man in the driver's seat. Stepping out from the shadows Hotch paused for a moment a sudden twinge of…

_Stop...stop...this isn't right!_

_..._ flicking through his mind. He locked down the thought quickly and moved forward quietly as he watched the woman pull what looked like mace from her bag along with the keys to her car.

So focused on the van, she didn't notice Hotch coming up behind her; which was the plan all along.

Hotch raised the small club he was holding as Mason smiled from the darkness of the van…

_Yes_ … _Oh yes, Mr. Serious Agent_ … _that_ ' _s right._

He snapped one more picture, then lowered his phone asHotch started to drag the woman's unconscious body towards the van.

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 11

Twenty-three year old Lorelei Gaines was soft spoken as she sat across her coffee table from the two FBI agents; after going to the local police station, Rossi and Prentiss had gone to her home.

" _I had gone to a club with some friends, was heading to my car, that_ ' _s all I remember until I woke_ _up in the motel room."_

Lorelei reached for her cup of tea, taking a slow sip, then returned it to the table, her hand slightly shaking.

Prentiss nodded leaning forward in her chair, holding her anger in check.

The police had taken too long to process the blood found at the motel. They had stated that the motel was a hangout for prostitutes and drug dealers and that the victim's claim of being abducted and tied up was probably a last minute change of mind over some kinky sex play, or her wanting to get back at an ex or hookup for playing too rough.

Traumatized and getting no help by the police, Lorelei had left town without a word to anyone, going so off the grid not even Garcia was able to locate her.

" _I just…I just needed to get away from everything for a while."_

She had finally returned to town and had agreed to talk about what happened.

"The men who took you…" Prentiss pulled out a photo of Ezral resting it on the table in front of the quiet woman. "Was he one of them?"

Lorelei leaned forward peering at the photo.

"I told the police, one of them was wearing a plaid shirt and a baseball cap pulled down low, I didn't...I didn't get a clear look at his face."

She leaned back closing her eyes and took a slow deep breath.

"I thought I was going to die."

"It's okay, you're doing a good job." smiled Prentiss. "The other man, you said you saw his face clearly."

"Well, yes. He was leaning over me."

Rossi pulled out a photo of Hotch and placed it on the coffee table.

He gave a quick side glance to Prentiss as they both inwardly held their breaths.

"Was this the man?" he asked.

Lorelei's eyes widened as she sat forward and picked up Hotch’s photo.

"Yes, that's him!"

Rossi heard Prentiss quietly gasp, his own heart thundering in his chest.

"You're sure?" he asked gently,

Lorelei turned to Rossi, "He was practically on top of me. I'm sure."

"He was on top of you?"

Prentiss frowned trying to picture the scenario; Hotch would never hurt a woman.

Lorelei nodded, "Then the other man came back; the one in the cap. He got _so_ angry and started to attack him." she motioned towards the photo of Hotch.

"While they were fighting I was able to escape."

"The man in the cap, why did he get angry?" asked Rossi; hope and worry for Hotch's well-being clashing in his mind.

Lorelei slowly sat back as she stared at Hotch’s photo, held reverently in her hands. A moment passed, then she turned the photo towards Rossi and Prentiss and smiled.

"Because he was trying to untie me."

* * *

The team was ecstatic; they finally had their first proof in months that Hotch was alive! Or at least had been, up to a few weeks before. This news renewed their purpose and gave them energy to continue their search.

"One thing I don't get; if Hotch was in the motel room alone with the woman, why didn't he use the phone to call for help before Ezral returned?" asked Morgan, as the team sat around the meeting room table.

"Not to play devil's advocate, but are we even sure the other man was Ezral? The witness couldn't identify him." stated Prentiss. "The front desk clerk at the motel couldn't even identify him or Hotch!"

They had gone to the motel room with a small forensics team who combed the room in search of any evidence; unfortunately the room had been cleaned and had several more occupants over the following weeks, so no more evidence was found of his presence.

"It was him." assured Rossi. "Maybe Ezral threatened to hurt her, maybe Hotch was also tied up and just freed himself and was freeing her and ran out of time when Ezral returned."

"It's possible, but why take the chance of bringing Hotch to the motel in the first place?" inquired Reid. "Though it was off the beaten track, there were still other guests in the motel at the time."

"Maybe Ezral liked the thrill, wanted to taunt Hotch with the proximity of potential rescue. Maybe he wanted to force Hotch to watch or wanted to force Hotch to participate." said Morgan.

"But Hotch would never hurt a woman!" exclaimed JJ.

"I don't know if we can be sure about that anymore."

The team turned as one to the doorway of the room where Garcia stood, a look of devastation on her face.

"Garcia, what do you mean by that?" asked Morgan.

"I'm...I'm sorry to interrupt, but…" she quickly stepped into the room taking hold of the remote for the room's large monitor. “There's something you should see. I received an email this morning with photo attachments."

"Sent by whom?" asked Rossi.

"It...I...it was from Ezral, he actually _signed_ it...even added a happy face...a happy face! The nerve of..."

"What were the photos of?" asked Morgan, cutting her off.

"I…" Garcia shook her head and pressed a button on the remote, stepping back for the others to see.

"Hotch. The photos are of Hotch. He's...they're..." Garcia let out a sob then handed the remote to JJ, turned and hurried from the room.

* * *

Mason slowly drove back to the house, parking the truck in back and sat there for a moment relishing everything that had happened.

After the events in the parking lot, after the bartender who had put up a good fight but was no match for the strength of Hotchner or himself; they had sliced their way through two more women just days later.

The agent's switch after the debacle in the motel room was amazing; Mr. Serious Agent man was now an accomplice in several murders.

Mason had taken pictures of Hotchner in wonderfully criminal poses. Tying up the women, dragging one toward her doom; arm raised high over one woman, club in hand. The pictures were somewhat grainy, the prepaid phone he had used to take them not the best quality, but it didn't matter; for those who were curious, he was sure the faces of Hotchner and the women could be made clear. Once he had enough pictures, he had driven a town over in the truck, leaving the questioning agent behind.

_Why can't I come with you, Mason?_

Once in town, and with a little internet digging he found the BAU's I.T handler's email address and had sent her and the town's local news station the photos. In the body of the emails, a message on how easy it was for the mighty to succumb to darkness. He opted to send the emails far enough from home, just in case the BAU’s I.T. could back trace where the email originated from. He was narrowing the trail for Hotchner's team...a breadcrumb leading them closer to the house, to their _beloved_ leader.

Mason smiled to himself, he had planned to kill the agent, but decided he could do that anytime; for now, this was _so_ much better. The man was now culpable, was just as bad as many of the people he had put in prison. Mr. Special Agent Hotchner thought he was above it all, above the criminals he put away. Well now he could add another name to his title...

Accomplice.

The last woman had tried to escape and Hotchner had ran after her, catching her and dragging her back to her doom. After secretly taking a few photos of that moment, Mason had patted the agent on the back.

_Good job, brother!_

By now the town's media and Hotchner's team would have seen the photos, would realize that the great BAU leader was really altogether not so good.

Mason could see the future; Hotchner losing his job, prison time, his reputation shot to hell forever...the smug look on his face a distant memory.

It was time for him to finish this and move on, leaving the agent to the hell awaiting him.

After getting rid of the phone and buying another pre-paid one from a guy behind a counter who barely looked up from his hot rod magazine; he spent the next few hours biding his time in town. Listening for any breaking news on his radio, and waiting to see if the BAU would show their face following the electronic trail the email had left.

Hours later he smiled, satisfied his time wasn't wasted as he spotted Hotchner's team making their way out of the local Sheriff's office. With a soft snort and a smirk, Mason pulled away from where he had been parked down the street and headed home.

* * *

An hour later, he sat in the cab of the truck, looking through the windshield at the house. He had taken a picture of it with his new phone and had added it as an attachment to an email he sent with directions to the house and a message to Hotchner's team.

_Come alone or Finders Keepers._

He thought about all the evidence the FBI would find once they got there. Thought of the shallow graves behind the house that he had the agent dig, burying the blood and bones of their victims. Thought of the confused smile on the agent's face each time he would pat the last bit of dirt on the graves with his shovel, and Mason would pat him on the back praising him.

Mason left his phone on the passenger seat of the truck then got out and headed inside, he found Hotchner asleep on the couch; it was finally time to put an end to the play.

"Cullen?" he whispered, standing over the sleeping man.

Hotch twitched in his sleep…

_Promise me you’ll tell him how we met_ …

_How you used to make me laugh_ …

"No...no..." groaned Hotch softly.

_Please don_ ' _t...don_ ' _t hurt me_ … _!_

_Cullen, Hold. IT. Down!_

"Cullen!" Mason shook him by the arm, his tone, quick; the result, what he wanted...

The agent’s eyes snapped open.

"The BAU, they found us, they're coming!" Mason hissed.

Hotch gasped, sitting up.

_He wouldn't be taken again!_

"No!" he growled.

**TBC**


	12. Chapter 12

The team had followed Garcia's directions and were in the town where Ezral's email emanated from, but there were no more leads. Garcia could only pinpoint the location of where the email was sent to somewhere near the center of town, but even before they arrived, the pre-paid phone had been turned off or destroyed. So they had gone to the local sheriff's office with photos of Ezral and Hotch.

"This one," said the sheriff pointing at Ezral's picture, "We know about; got our eyes out for him with all the murder's happening around these parts."

He pointed to a wanted poster of Ezral on a nearby bulletin board. "As to the other," the sheriff scratched the back of his neck. "You say he's one of yours? Abducted awhile back by this same guy?"

Morgan nodded. "Have you seen him?" he asked a little annoyed at the laid back drawl of the man. They needed to hurry, Hotch had to be close by, He could feel it.

"Have I seen him?" repeated the sheriff with a smirk, beckoning the surly group over to a TV nearby and turning it on.

"Breaking news a few minutes ago." he said.

The news footage shocked the group. Ezral had forwarded the photos to the local news station, the caption under the photo of Hotch raising a club over one of the missing woman.

_Missing_ _FBI Agent turned Murderer?_

"You get any leads on your man, you plan on sharing them with us?" asked the sheriff with a smirk but with shark like eyes that betrayed his laid back attitude.

Rossi stepped forward. "When we do find him," he said quietly, dangerously. "It will be a FBI matter and not a three-ringed circus. Do you understand me?"

The sheriff huffed, his eyes narrowing, but a moment later he looked down and away from Rossi's penetrating stare.

"He ain't killed none of ours, so if your agent and his friend are still in town please feel free to get them and take them as far away from my good people as possible, you got me?"

"Yes, sheriff, we got you." nodded Rossi, staring at the man for a beat longer than was necessary, then glanced at the team and motioned for them to leave.

"Idiot!" muttered Morgan as they exited the station.

"Hotch could be close." said Reid. "We can't give up now, especially with that news footage; better we find Hotch than a local with an itchy trigger finger."

The team got in their SUV, unsure of where to go next.

"He could have been drugged...or forced by gunpoint." continued Reid from the back seat. "The photos didn't show everything. Mason could have been pointing a gun at him." He glanced over at Prentiss who sat next to him lost in thought.

"No one's saying Hotch would do this on purpose, Reid. He couldn't have; we just have to find him." stated Morgan from the driver's seat.

Rossi turned to Reid from the passenger seat.

"Once we get him back, we can find out exactly what happened."

He turned to Morgan. "Strauss?" he asked.

Morgan's brows furrowed. "I was hoping we would have more information by now…something tangible before I told her. I didn't want to torch Hotch's career, Hotch's life, over some photos... but now the media, I'm sure she's already found out everything. We'll just have to deal with the fallout later."

Morgan's phone rang at that moment. Glancing at the caller i.d., he winced, holding out the phone for Rossi to see that Strauss was calling. With a deep sigh he pressed "ignore" ending the ringing and placed the phone in his pocket, glancing at Rossi then at his rear view mirror to Reid and Prentiss before turning to stare out the window.

* * *

Garcia hands flew across her keyboard; for someone who believed in the good in everybody she couldn't believe how angry she was. She couldn't believe the dark thoughts running through her mind over what she would do to Mason Ezral if she _ever_ got her hands on him; because their fearless leader…

_Had to_

_Had to_

_Had to…_

…have been forced to do the things the photos showed him doing.

_Hotch_.

"Keep your eyes on the prize, Penelope." she murmured to herself. She was trying to find any links to Ezral in the town where he had sent the email from and the towns surrounding; but she was finding nothing, nothing at all. She spun her chair away from her monitors for a moment and took a deep breath.

When Reid had called to tell her Ezral had leaked the photos of Hotch to the local media, Garcia's world had screeched to a halt.

_It's over then, Ezral won..._

Then she had shaken her head violently clearing that horrible thought from it and had gotten back to work, her keyboard heating up as she clacked away, adamant to find the man who had gone out of his way to ruin her friend's life.

Garcia turned quickly as the door to her office suddenly opened.

"JJ?"

JJ quickly closed the door behind her.

"You okay?" Garcia asked, turning fully to stare at the blonde front person.

JJ nodded and took a seat by Garcia's desk. "I'm fine, I've just been summoned to Strauss' office."

Garcia gasped softly. "The news footage?"

JJ's eyes widened for a moment. "You heard? I was coming to tell you."

"Reid called." said Garcia.

"Prentiss." explained JJ, holding her phone out before placing it on the desk and pushing it away in disgust. "Everything is falling apart." she sighed.

Garcia nodded. "We have to find Hotch, then the pieces can be glued back together. We have to believe that."

JJ smiled softly at Garcia for a moment, then nodded, grabbing her phone and putting it in her pocket.

"You're right." she took a deep breath. "Off to Strauss' office then. Seems she feels we've been leaving her out of the loop for too long; and now with the news footage…"

"The photos...she's had it out for Hotch…"

"I know, Garcia. Once this hits the larger news stations...this can ruin Hotch and she just may let it, why do you think I'm in here?"

"You're hiding out?" Garcia couldn't help the smirk that formed on her lips.

JJ chuckled softly, "No…okay yes…but I was hoping you might have some new information?"

Garcia frowned. "No, but I'm still searching. I know I can find Ezral, I just need more time."

"Garcia, I need to tell Strauss something."

The I.T's email pinged just then and both women turned towards the monitor. With a few clicks, a picture of a house appeared with directions to the home underneath.

She frowned slightly and clicked on the second link in the email. A grainy video of a smiling Ezral came into view.

"Finders Keepers, Losers Weepers. Tell your team to come alone, or their precious cargo will be long gone in the wind."

"Oh...oh my...oh…" stammered Garcia.

JJ grabbed hold of her shoulder. "Contact the others...now!"

Garcia glanced at her. "Strauss?"

"She'll have to wait a little while longer, do it Garcia!"

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

"Why are we still here?!"

"You need to calm down, Cullen." Mason stood in the corner of the living room watching the agent pace back and forth; Hotch stopped and stared at him incredulously.

"You want me to calm down? The people who are after us now know where we live and they're on their way, how is this not bothering you?!"

_You’ll find out soon enough…_

"I'm not bothered, because you have my back."

"They're after _both_ of us, Mason." Hotch's voice was flat, dark.

Mason nodded. "And they'll keep tracking us unless we end it here, brother."

"What to do you mean by end it? Wait, you...you want us to kill them?"

Mason raised his eyebrows in an evident show of _that_ ' _s exactly what I want us to do._

"I have a plan Cullen, but we're running out of time."

Suddenly Hotch's chest tightened, his eyes glazing over...

_When I’m home, I’m in this silent panic because I know that I have to be as good as I can, as fast as I can, because any minute the phone is gonna ring and my time is up._

"Cullen?"

_Don't schiz out on me now Hotchner, we're almost done._

"Cullen!"

Hotch flinched, his eyes clearing.

"You with me?" Mason asked.

Hotch's mind felt muddled.

"I…you're my brother, of course I'm with you."

Hotch shook his head to clear it, his eyes narrowing.

"What's your plan?"

* * *

The sun had begun to set, the sky a beautiful mixture of reds and orange as the SUV pulled to a stop down the path and out of view from the house.

When the call came through to Prentiss, she thought her heart would stop.

The team thought she was strong and things didn't bother her, but this was Hotch; he had given her a chance, allowed her to stay on the team to prove herself.

If he was broken…she wouldn't give up on him. So when Garcia called and told her about the email, when she forwarded the directions to her phone, Prentiss, eyes heavy with tears of relief almost screamed at Morgan to step on it; she didn't though, didn't have to…Morgan already had the pedal to the floor.

The team moved quietly up the path, slowly moving to the periphery of the trees as the house came into sight.

Rossi pulled out binoculars, "There's no movement." he stated a moment later.

Morgan moved forward, the others following. As they neared the house guns raised, he motioned Prentiss and Reid around back as he and Rossi moved toward the front door. If this was another dead end he didn't know what they would do, the team needed Hotch back.

Morgan was just about to kick down the door when the sound of another door banging open from inside and Prentiss' shouts of "Stop! FBI!" resounded making both he and Rossi spin and race around the side of the house.

They saw Reid and Prentiss racing to the woods behind the house.

"Reid!" Morgan shouted.

The two men raced after their teammates, Rossi's mind falling back to months ago, his heart sinking…

_This is just like before._

Darkness started to settle over the woods.

"Reid, Prentiss talk to me." hissed Morgan.

Prentiss' out of breath voice came through his ear comm.

"One male, baseball cap, plaid shirt."

"Ezral?"

"Unknown."

"Reid?" Morgan's voice was tight with worry as he called out to their other team member.

"He's up ahead." Reid's voice whispered through the comm.

"Can you see who it is?" asked Rossi.

They were racing almost recklessly now through the trees, while unbeknownst to them, a shadowy figure followed quietly but just as quickly behind them - a sleek blade in hand.

* * *

He ran through the woods, a smile plastered on his face.

The adrenaline rush was amazing, the BAU so predictable.

He knew they would chase him, he was counting on it; the hunting knife held tight in his hand a reminder of what was to come.

A shout from behind him.

"Stop!"

Then a shot; the bullet whizzing by his head missing him by inches.

He continued to run and as he came to a sharp bend in the path, he smoothly stepped off it and crouched low behind a tree gripping the knife.

_Any second now…_ _any second_ _…_

* * *

_Any second now…_ _Any second_ _…_

Thought the shadowy figure following the two agents, smiling as he gripped his knife tightly.

Rossi was a few feet in front of Morgan, when a gunshot echoed through the woods. He looked back at Morgan just in time to see someone come rushing out from among the trees and slamming the younger agent face down to the ground. As the figure raised an arm high over his friend, the glint of a blade in its hand, Rossi aimed his gun.

"FBI!" he shouted.

_The person's back was to him…he couldn't see their face._

He fired twice, just as the person's arm descended towards Morgan; the figure jerking and falling sideways to the ground.

"Morgan!" Rossi ran toward the younger agent who had sat up scrambling backwards, his gun trained on the downed figure.

"I'm okay, I'm okay."

Rossi moved over to the still person.

"Who is it?" Morgan asked as he got to his feet.

Rossi crouched and felt for a pulse, there was none to be found. He pushed the body slightly to get a look at who he had just killed.

"It's Ezral! He's dead!" exhaled the older man, a hint of shock in his voice.

Suddenly, both agents stared at each other wide-eyed then at the trees ahead.

They had heard a gunshot.

And if the man on the ground was Ezral…

Both men turned and raced deeper into the woods, Morgan's hand pressed to his ear comm.

"Prentiss, Reid, hold your fire! Hold your fire!"

Moments later they rounded a turn on a path and suddenly there was Reid struggling on the ground, a man in shadows on top of him.

There was the glint of a blade between them, the man pushing it downwards as Reid struggled to hold him at bay.

Without slowing, Morgan barreled into the man at full speed, both of them tumbling down a small incline.

Stunned for a moment, Morgan then quickly got to his feet, pulling his gun on the man who lay unmoving, his back to him.

The sun had finally descended, the last of the day's light gone, casting the woods into darkness as Morgan pulled his flashlight out; using his foot to turn the man onto his back, hoping they were was so very wrong…so very…

The man didn't even twitch. His baseball cap had fallen off and Morgan raised his flashlight, and as the light flicked over the man's face, Morgan felt his knees buckle and all the breath go out of him; he dropped to the ground and holstered his weapon. Aiming his flashlight directly over the man's face, he saw the blood dripping from the side his head from where it had connected with a tree.

They weren't wrong.

_No no no no no!_

"Hotch?" Morgan cried out.

He heard the rest of them rushing up behind him; their flashlights cutting through the darkness like laser beams.

"Morgan, you okay?" asked Prentiss.

As they crowded around him he heard them gasp.

"Aaron? Oh no…" said Rossi softly as he knelt next to Morgan.

In the darkness of the woods, Hotch lay unmoving under the shocked stares of his team.

**TBC**


	14. Chapter 14

Hours had passed, the hospital's waiting room chairs were hard, unforgiving, but no one even noticed.

Rossi sat leaning forward, hands clasped whispering a small prayer under his breath as with tired eyes he looked around the room.

Reid had moved over to the window, he'd been staring out of it for more than an hour now. Garcia had tried to pull him towards a seat, but he had gently pushed her hand away and resumed his silent stance.

Morgan's face was stone, but Rossi could see the tension rippling through him. The only thing most likely keeping him from punching a hole in the wall or yelling at an unsuspecting nurse or two was Garcia, who he had an arm around as she slept fitfully, her head on his shoulder. Rossi could see the stains across her face where her tears had fallen earlier.

Prentiss had called Garcia with the good news, telling her and JJ to get to the hospital a.s.a.p. Rossi didn't think exultation and worry could resound in someone's voice at the same time, he was mistaken. He sighed and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes.

_Strauss...the consequences coming their way for keeping those photos from her..._

_This was going to be a long night._

"We should have heard something by now."

The older agent's eyes snapped open, and after a beat he nodded his agreement at Prentiss who was sitting directly across from him.

Shaking her head softly she glanced down at JJ who had somehow curled up on the stiff chairs and was asleep, her head on Prentiss' lap.

"Hotch's been through a lot, it's going to take a while to check him over. You okay, Emily?"

Prentiss stared at him for a moment.

"No, I'm not. Are you?"

Rossi slowly swiped a hand down his face and turned to look at Reid.

* * *

They had called in an Air Evac for Hotch, they wanted him in a larger hospital closer to home where there would be a better chance of him getting the help he needed.

While awaiting the Air Evac, Morgan and Prentiss did a sweep of the house. The sound of the generator behind the home was weak, the fuel almost gone, but lights flickered throughout as Morgan and Prentiss quickly made their way from room to room. The house was small, so it didn't take long for the "clears" to be completed.

The last door led to the cellar; as they walked down it guns raised, the rank smell made their noses twitch. Morgan switched on the rope bulb, the light flickered but dimly held.

With the help of their flashlights, it only took a moment to see that there was no one in the cellar; it only took another moment for their minds to grasp what they were seeing.

Dried blood stains spattered the room, lengths of used rope in a corner, an overturned stained cot with handcuffs on its ends.

Prentiss had called him over to a corner of the room to a small closet, an open padlock hanging from it; inside, blood stained chains attached to the wall.

"Morgan." Prentiss' voice was heavy.

The faint sound of an approaching helicopter could be heard in the distance.

"I know." he had replied, trying to hold back the horror he was feeling. "I know, we'll get someone here to check this out. We got Hotch back, everything else we'll deal with later."

* * *

Rossi had rode with Hotch in the helicopter; his mind whirling as he thought of the unfairness of Ezral's too sudden death, and the horrific image of Hotch attacking Reid.

He looked down at Hotch who lay way too still for Rossi's liking.

_What did Ezral do to you, my friend?_

Once at the hospital, Hotch was whisked behind closed doors. The doctor on call; a tall woman with olive skin, long dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, had introduced herself as Dr. Allery. She told the team she'd let them know when she knew herself, then disappeared behind the doors following Hotch's gurney.

Several hours later, the tension was building in the waiting room. Garcia and JJ had awoken earlier and had finally coaxed Reid away from the window to go with them to find coffee and food. He had yet to utter a word since the woods.

Morgan had surprised Rossi by not pacing, but the quiet anger rolling off the younger man could be felt as far as the nurse’s desk; he noticed a few of them glancing at him with looks of concern on their faces.

Empty coffee cups littered the waiting room along with a dent in the wall, where Morgan had finally released some of his anger when the doors they were hoping for swung open and Dr. Allery appeared.

The team stood as one.

"How is he?" asked Morgan stepping forward.

The doctor glanced at each of the team members, then at the dent in the wall.

Exhaling deeply, she spun as she said, "Come with me."

She led them to a private waiting room, where they stood impatiently waiting for her to talk.

"Please, have a seat." she said as she closed the door behind her.

The team all remained standing; when Rossi saw the subtle ripples of tension in Morgan's jawline he stepped forward.

"Doctor, please, just tell us." he pleaded.

She paused for a moment then nodded.

"As of yet, Agent Hotchner is still unconscious. He has a moderate concussion, and we saw fading evidence of past extensive bruising over parts of his entire body, along with some scarring from some recent knife wounds."

"Wait, how recent?" asked Morgan. "Agent Hotchner was attacked and stabbed multiple times almost a year ago."

The doctor nodded, "Yes, I saw those scars, the ones I mentioned were made more recently within the past several weeks at least. Not stab wounds, he has scarring across his chest from long cuts made with a blade, some of the cuts were shallow, some a little deeper…there was also signs that a strip of skin was cut from his upper right arm. The wounds looked like they were tended to, there's no obvious signs of infection, but we have him on a low grade antibiotic just in case."

_Knife wounds_ … _skin_ …

"We're any of his bones broken?" asked Morgan, knowing the team needed to know.

He heard Garcia gasp, and watched as she turned away moving over to one of the couches in the room. As she pulled a tissue from her bag, JJ moved over to her sitting close, an arm around the teary technologist.

"No, there were no signs of any fractures anywhere."

Morgan's heartbeat slowed a little at that news. "When can we see him?"

"Well, we're just waiting for his blood test to come back and we're just finishing up a few more tests, then we'll be moving him to his room, so maybe in about an hour or so. You can all wait here and I'll come and get you when it's time."

As the doctor turned to leave, Prentiss asked, "You said that he had a concussion; it’s been hours doctor, shouldn't he have woken up by now?"

Dr. Allery sighed and nodded. "Yes, we were hoping he would have shown some signs of waking by now; but I've seen this before in patients who have gone through similar traumatic events.

"Seen what?" asked Prentiss.

"It's possible, even more than likely, that agent Hotchner does not _want_ to wake up."

**TBC**


	15. Chapter 15

Forty minutes had passed and the team was finally heading towards Hotch's room.

"Where's the doctor?" huffed Morgan, to the young red-headed nurse in bright pink scrubs leading the way.

"Dr. Allery asked me to bring you to Agent Hotchner's room." she smiled, "My name is Sarah and I've been involved in your agent's care."

"Why couldn't she come and get us herself?" Morgan continued.

The nurse's smile dropped slightly. "Some issues have arisen, pertaining to agent Hotchner that she had to see about."

"Issues?" asked Prentiss.

The nurse nodded and continued forward.

* * *

The argument could be heard from the elevator.

"You have no right coming in here waving your credentials, flaunting any authority you may think you have! My patient comes first and this can hinder his progress!"

"These credentials and the fact that he is _my agent_ gives me all the right in the world, doctor. Now please update me on my agent's progress as you mentioned, or do I have to escort you and everyone else from this floor and make this a locked ward?"

"You don't have that authority!"

"I'm FBI, so believe me when I say that yes, I do."

The team rounded the corner in the hall to find the doctor and Strauss in a standoff; an agent guarding the door to a nearby room.

When Dr. Allery saw the team, she threw up her hands in exasperation.

"I'm going to check on my patient! If I'm allowed that is!" She turned and stormed into the guarded room, the door swinging closed behind her.

Strauss whipped her head around to glare at the team members.

"Erin…" began Rossi softly, his hands half raised.

Strauss stepped towards them, "Don't Erin me, Dave. Right now I'm Director Strauss to all of you! What were you thinking, leaving me out of the loop on this!?"

She lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. "You had evidence that an FBI agent was an accomplice in several murders and you said nothing! Told no one!"

"But, Ma'am…um...Director Strauss, it was Agent Hotchner." reasoned Garcia. "You know he would never have willingly done what those pictures showed."

"What I _know, Miss_ Garcia is that willing or not, Agent Hotchner was involved in the abductions leading to the deaths of at least 5 women and that his team knew about it."

"We wanted to find him first, give him a chance to explain; the circumstances may not be as they seem, Director." explained Morgan.

Strauss gave him a scathing look.

"Well we shall soon see, won't we? This can be the downfall of us all; for now, the guard stays. As to the future of the role of Unit Chief," she glared at Morgan, "I'm beginning to think the next person to fill that seat should be someone new, from the outside."

"That seat belongs to Hotch." he growled.

Ignoring Morgan, Strauss turned to JJ, "I'm putting you in charge of keeping me updated on Agent Hotchner's progress; you will keep _nothing_ from me this time, do you understand?"

JJ's eyes widened, "Yes Ma'am" she nodded.

"Miss Garcia?"

"Ma'am?"

Strauss moved to stand inches away from the IT tech, her voice an angry whisper.

"The news stations and papers will no longer be showing any of Ezral's photos; I've put a stop to that. But the damage has already been done, there's no turning back the clock. For now, what I need from you are copies of those photos and then that email with its attachments off our servers do you understand me?"

Garcia nodded quickly.

Strauss turned to the rest of the team, her voice still low.

"I'm not so cold that I can't feel for Agent Hotchner."

She pulled a file from her valise and handed it to Morgan.

"The preliminary report from the forensics team; there were drugs found in the house, hallucinogens, Scopolamine and a slew of others. They found blood stains in a van parked at the house and the bodies of the 5 missing women buried nearby. Blood stains, including Agent Hotchner's were found in the cellar; his blood was soaked into the cot, the stains embedded in the handcuffs found attached and also in chains found in a closet. Ezral _hurt_ him."

Strauss paused letting that fact sink into her mind along with the rest of the team's.

"If he was an unwilling participant, if he was drugged or forced to help Ezral, we'll get him the help he needs. If we find out that wasn't the case, that somehow Ezral _turned_ him…well that's a can I'm not willing to open as of yet. For now, I have to deal with the media mess and maybe just maybe by the time _this_ is all over, we can all end up keeping our jobs and ourselves out of prison."

Strauss shook her head, her lips tight, then turned and headed for the elevator.

"That…went well." sighed Prentiss.

"Better then it could have gone." replied Morgan. He glanced over at Reid who was leaning against the nurses' desk staring at the door to Hotch's room.

"Kid...you okay?"

When Reid didn't respond the team moved to face him.

"Spence?" JJ said softly, placing a hand on his arm.

Reid blinked slowly, then quickly as he realized everyone was looking at him.

"I…I'm fine." He murmured.

"No, you're not." frowned Morgan. He looked the younger agent over. The image of Reid struggling under the strength of a crazed Hotch, made Morgan wince inwardly.

 _If Hotch had killed Reid_ …

"You gotta know that Hotch would never purposely do anything to hurt you. What happened earlier...that wasn't Hotch…that wasn't _our_ Hotch. You get that, right?"

Reid stared at him, then turned back to the door.

"I know that."

"So what's going on it that head of yours ?"

Reid turned back to Morgan.

"Morgan, I could have killed him. I shot at him..."

"Reid," started Rossi. "You didn't know it was him you were chasing, none of us did; we thought it was Ezral."

"But it wasn't!" Reid argued.

"And you didn't shoot him." finished Morgan.

"Not for want of trying…" Reid chuckled sadly.

"Well kid, this is the one time we're all glad you missed." smiled Rossi.

Just then the door to Hotch's room opened and the doctor emerged.

"Agents?"

The team turned to her, worried looks on their faces.

The doctor smiled and beckoned them forward.

"It's Agent Hotchner…he's waking up."

**TBC**


	16. Chapter 16

_"You_ ' _re going to be the bait."_

_"What?" Hotch exclaimed._

_They were both standing by the front window keeping watch._

_"No worries, brother. While they're chasing you...I'll be chasing them. As I cut them down from behind, you'll turn on them and do the same from the front. It'll be like circling prey, the thrill of the hunt!"_

_Hotch hefted the large knife in his hand that Mason had handed to him earlier._

_"It'd be easier with a gun." he stated_

_"The noise would only give away your location. Knives are more up close...more personal. Plus brother, remember they hurt you, took you from your family, messed with your head; feeling their blood wash over you as you take their lives from them...I don't want you to be denied that, Cullen"_

_Hotch blinked. "You'll have my back?"_

_Mason smacked him lightly on the shoulder and grinned._

_"Always, brother...always."_

* * *

_It was a sight to behold._

_Hotchner taking off at full speed into the woods, his team chasing after him guns drawn._

_Mason crouched out of sight yards away at the edge of the trees watching. He had told his 'brother' that he would bring up the rear in the chase, but his plan was to make his escape as soon as the coast was clear; while the BAU was too entrenched in the hunt of their colleague who Mason had given his baseball cap and plaid shirt to wear. If they shot at Hotchner thinking he was him_ … _maybe that would give the agent incentive enough to attack, to strike out._

_Mason stood and stared at the truck by the house, then at the woods._

_He could just leave...right now...but...the lust for retribution was suddenly overwhelming._

_He wanted to see Mr. Serious Agent take down one of his own; the final piece de resistance of all his work. And if Mason got to take one of them down before he disappeared, leaving Hotchner to his fate..._

_Gripping his own knife, Mason quickly turned and ran into the woods, eyes flashing in anticipation._

* * *

"Agent Hotchner, can you hear me? Come on, let me see those eyes of yours."

Hotch wanted to seep back into his dark cocoon, but a persistent voice kept drawing him out introducing him to agony; it felt like someone had stabbed him in the head with a knife.

_Knife_ …

He strained his eyes open a sliver, then quickly snapped them shut against the light that felt like splinters trying to burrow their way into his brain.

Groaning, he tried to turn away but hands held the side of his face, holding him in place.

_"_ _The lights, can someone lower them?_ _"_

The voice…it was female.

" _I got it..._ "

That was another voice, deeper.

" _Okay, let_ ' _s try again now; the lights have been lowered, it_ ' _s all right."_ The female voice was soft, but commanding.

Hotch slowly cracked his eyes open to blurry figures standing around him; he flinched and tried to turn away as one of the figures leaned over him.

_Wait...something was wrong, he could barely move!_

_Hotch started to struggle, He had to get away...he had to..._

_Hands grabbed at him…_

_"We need to take those things off him!"_

_"They_ ' _re your Director's idea, not mine!"_

The loud voices caused the pain in Hotch's head to spike and he groaned louder.

"Lemme go...don't touch me..." he murmured. "Don't...touch..."

" _Hotch? Aaron...it_ _’s okay. Stop struggling you're safe now...you're safe."_

_Safe?_

Hotch stopped moving as the voice's words echoed into the fog of tiredness that suddenly overwhelmed him.

_Safe_.

"Mason." he sighed, his face relaxing as he slipped into darkness once again.

Rossi leaned back from the bed, his face creased with worry as he turned to the doctor.

* * *

Several hours had passed.

Morgan had sent Garcia back to the office, to hand over a copy of the photos to Strauss. They didn't want to chance sending them through email, the less the photos moved around electronically, the better.

"I've started running a program," she said. "To ping any searches or internet uploads regarding Hotch and Ezral. I can't promise anything...it may not be of any help, considering; but if it pops up on my monitor consider it blocked, disappeared, through the wardrobe never to be seen again."

"You can do that?" asked Rossi.

"I can and will do anything to keep my family safe, sir." she smiled,

"Don't I know it Garcia...never doubted that for a second." he replied.

Though she was smiling, Rossi knew she was deadly serious when it came to the welfare of the team.

* * *

A little while later after talking with Hotch's doctor, Prentiss was returning to his room.

_He_ ' _s just going to need some time. Agent Prentiss._

As she neared the door she nodded at the agent standing guard; his name was Foster Cade. Tall with short dark hair, she had occasionally seen him around the office and they would exchange _Good Mornings_ and such. He had a reputation for being trustworthy and discreet, Strauss had probably chosen him for this reason.

"Cade." she said, acknowledging him.

"Prentiss." he nodded back. "How is he?" he asked quietly motioning at the door to the room.

She shrugged her shoulders slightly. "He needs some time...what he's been through..." she trailed off, not wanting to over share.

"Agent Hotchner is one of the good guys, no matter what anyone says." he said. "Just know anything I hear while standing here, it won't go any further."

"Thank you." she responded, then quietly opened the door and stepped inside.

An hour earlier, a more coherent Hotch had awoken in a blinding fury when he realized that he had been restrained to the bed; the look of rage on his face would stay with Prentiss for a very long time.

As would the way the bed had sounded as it crashed repeatedly to the ground as Hotch had fought to escape, throwing himself forward and twisting out of the teams' hands as they tried to hold him down.

"You won't fool me again! I know who I am!" he had shouted, voice heavy, rasping; face red, contorted. "I KNOW WHO I AM!"

Morgan had physically gotten on the bed trying to use his weight to hold Hotch down, which had made Hotch even angrier.

"Get off of me! Get OFF!"

The machines attached to Hotch beeped wildly as he bucked in vain as the restraints along with Morgan's weight kept his movements down to a minimum; but he kept struggling nonetheless causing Morgan to wonder if he was hurting him. Reid grabbed for the call button and quickly pressed it, they needed some help in there. Prentiss ran out into the hallway and saw Sarah who was rushing towards the room.

"Get Dr. Allery!" Prentiss shouted.

Sarah within seconds was paging the doctor as Prentiss ran back to the room.

"Hotch?" said Morgan, when Hotch suddenly stilled under him.

"I'll never tell..." Hotch muttered, breathing heavily, his eyes filled with a rage that was slowly slipping into wide-eyed worry.

"Tell us what Hotch?" asked Morgan, slipping off the side of the bed.

"I'll never tell." Hotch repeated, then started to shout out those three words to his worried friends, and continued his struggle when the door to the room flew open and Dr. Allery along with Sarah came rushing in.

"Get away from the bed!" The doctor ordered, and everyone immediately took a step back.

Hotch's eyes had darkened as she neared the bed, a syringe in hand.

"Get that thing away from me!" his voice like gravel.

"Agent Hotchner stop struggling, we're trying to help you!" she ordered.

"No...No!"

The doctor injected the sedative into Hotch's i.v., then backed away.

"We need him to stay calm." she told his team members.

Sarah moved to the bed, adjusting the sheets and went about making sure her patient was okay.

Gasping, Hotch had squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the sedative move through his system, his body unwillingly going limp.

"I know who I am.” He murmured softly, "I know…I know...I'll never tell."

* * *

As Prentiss closed the door to Hotch's room behind her, she sighed at the scene before her.

The lights had been kept dimmed on Hotch's behalf; the first signs of the morning slipping through the window casting the room in a dull bluish light.

The team was sitting around Hotch's bed on chairs the nurse had brought in for them. They were sitting close, not enough to bristle Hotch; but close enough to feel the stare Hotch usually reserved for the criminals he interrogated, that he now had turned towards his own team, his own friends.

When Morgan saw Prentiss he moved over to doorway, pulling her aside, his eyes questioning.

She shook her head, "She just said give it time."

Morgan turned towards the bed; at the moment, time was all they could give Hotch.

**TBC**


	17. Chapter 17

_Mason, where are you?_

_He's dead..._

_No, he's not...no he's not!_

_They killed him..._

_No!_ _He's not dead!_

_He's in hiding, that's why they took you..._

_He wouldn't allow that, he said he'd have my back!_

_So he must be dead_ …

_No no no!_

Hotch twitched, these thoughts running through his mind over and over again. He yanked at the restrains they had on him, they were irritating his skin. His eyes had adjusted to the sunlight that had streamed through the window for a few hours now.

The "doctor" had come by earlier and raised the head of his bed a little, asking him questions about himself. Did he know his name? Where he was? Did he know the people in the room? Was he comfortable and did he need anything?

_I need you to untie me and tell me where my brother is._ Was what he wanted to say, but he gave her a look that would peel paint instead.

He looked around the room, all the BAU team members had left except for the oldest one, who sat low in a chair near his bed nursing what must have been cold coffee by now and watching him with a careful inquisitive look.

There had been introductions earlier when one of the female agents had asked him if he remembered them, and was left with his flat look as a response.

Mason had never showed him pictures of these people and he never thought to look for any himself; the BAU being a vague "big bad wolf" in his mind...no faces, no names.

_It's me Hotch, Prentiss...Emily."_

They did a roll call for his benefit,

" _Garcia will be back soon._ ” Said the tall dark skinned man who had introduced himself as Morgan.

_“She volunteered to talk to Jessica, let her know in person how you're doing.”_ The man had paused there. " _Jessica and Jack_ … _they missed you, Hotch. Do you_ … _do you remember Jack?_ "

Hotch had ignored what the man was saying, throwing names at him was a useless tactic. He knew what they were trying to do and he wasn't about to fall for it again.

Reid and Jareau had rounded up the bunch; Hotch's eyes flitting to her blonde hair for a split second.

_Very shiny..._

His attention then lasered in on Reid.

"You're the one who tried to shoot me.” he stated flatly at the young man whose face paled visibly.

" _Hotch, I_ …"

"Guess I should have pushed down a little harder with my knife." Hotch smiled.

Eventually, after whispering to each other, they left leaving the last man standing, or sitting per se. The man seemed content to just sit there and watch him.

" _I'm Dave...Dave Rossi."_

* * *

Their staring match lasted awhile, then finally the older man cleared his throat and sat up a little more in the chair glancing at the untouched tray near the bed.

"You didn't eat your breakfast." he remarked.

"Where's my brother?" Hotch cut to the chase.

The man twitched slightly at those words as he rested his coffee cup down on the nearby side table.

"Your brother...Sean?" he asked slowly. "He's overseas right now, he's trying to get a flight back as soon as possible. He was happy to hear that you were found."

Hotch twisted his wrists against the restraints.

"You didn't answer the doctor when she asked earlier." Rossi continued. "I know you don't remember us, but do you remember _your_ name?"

_Oh here we go..._

_"_ I don't know, _Agent Rossi_ …" Hotch snarked, "Do you still have me as your fearless leader or am I to be someone else this time?"

Rossi's mouth quirked slightly at Hotch's tone; his usually stoic friend, now lay in front of him dripping of sarcasm and obvious frustration.

Rossi slowly reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small leather bound wallet, opening it and laying it on Hotch's lap.

Hotch glared at the older man, then slowly lowered his gaze to see an FBI i.d., with a picture of himself in a suit.

Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner

_Hotchner...so that's why they keep calling me Hotch._

"We found it in the woods near where Ezral abducted you.

Hotch's amused look wasn't lost on Rossi.

"What's so funny?" he asked Hotch.

"That you would think to put me in a suit, guess I had to look the part."

The older agent sighed.

"Mason Ezral is _not_ your brother, Hotch."

Hotch's eyes flashed at the older man's abrupt statement, then went dark and flat and Rossi knew he hit the nail on the head when he saw an expression that he never saw before slip onto his friend's face, making Rossi subconsciously lean back in his chair. It was an expression that made him remember that Hotch if pushed could be a very dangerous man.

"And I..." hissed Hotch quietly, "...am _not_ who you _think_ I am."

* * *

Two days had passed and Hotch was ready to chew his arm off just to finally get rid of the restraints. The doctor had noticed the chafing on Hotch's wrists and ankles and while he had slept had the restraints exchanged for softer ones.

He had had more visitors, an older woman with short dirty blonde hair; she was blunt, her eyes never leaving Hotch's face.

_We know what Ezral did to you._

"Agent Hotchner..." she had stepped forward, standing near the end of the bed.

"You have to help us here, we want to help you, but you're putting us all in a very difficult situation. You need to open your mouth and say something! _Do you remember what you did? What Ezral did to you?_ "

The way Hotch stared made Strauss feel like he was dissecting her.

"Aaron, can you _hear_ me?" she finally had to ask.

When he remained mute, Strauss' frustration grew and she opened a file she was holding and pulled a picture from it holding it up for Hotch to see.

"Who are protecting, _him_?"

The picture of Ezral lying on the slab in the morgue was in glossy colour, the autopsy sutures prominent along with the two bullet holes on his upper left chest.

"This is the man who put you in here, not us! He's dead so you need to..."

Strauss suddenly stopped as she watched an unnamed emotion unpack itself across her agent's face, making her words freeze in her mouth. She started to apologize…

"I...I'm sorry...I shouldn't have..."

When Hotch saw the bullet wounds, a tidal wave of something that was beyond fury crashed through him.

They killed his brother...

They killed his…

They killed...

... _Mason_

Hotch saw _red._

The last thing he remembered was the chaotic blaring of the machines around him and his visitor's frightened face as she was pulled away from the bed and he was sedated once again.

When he awoke, it was to the soft humming of a woman and the clicking sound as her fingers made their way across the laptop keyboard that she had set up on his side table.

_Well this is new._

He couldn't help but smile slightly; the woman was blonde, but with streaks of colour through her hair. Pink, orange...was that purple too? Her dress and jewelry were garish, too bright for his tastes.

Garcia felt the back of her neck tingling and looked up to see Hotch quietly watching her.

“Sir, you're awake!" she cautiously smiled. It had been hours since he was sedated, she hated seeing him so still, so quiet.

She closed her laptop then hesitantly stood, clasping her hands together.

"Are you okay? Do you need me to get the doctor?"

Hotch continued to silently stare.

_He needed more information._

Garcia swallowed heavily, "Maybe I should get the doctor."

"No." Hotch's voice was soft.

Garcia forced her smile to remain on her lips. The team was on suspension until the whole debacle with Hotch had been cleared up. They had been called to the Director's office for a meeting with some of the "higher-ups," to discuss their roles in the events leading up to Hotch's return. Including the secrecy involved regarding the photos and Hotch's potential part in the disappearances and murders of five women.

Garcia had had her moment earlier in the frightening round table meeting of sour faces so had volunteered to stay with Hotch.

" _Are you sure?_ " _Morgan had asked her. He was shocked and angry that Strauss had been so reckless in showing Hotch the picture of Ezral_ ' _s corpse; he wasn’t surprised the way Hotch reacted, Strauss had messed up and Hotch had to be sedated_ … _again._

" _We‘ll_ _be fine._ " _Garcia assured him._

"I would have been here before, sir, but I was with Jessica….and Jack. I was letting them know you were okay."

_Bingo!_

He remembered what Morgan had told him.

"Garcia." he smiled, the grin he received in return his confirmation.

"You...you remember me, sir?"

"I-I think so." Hotch feigned as he looked around the room.

_Good, they were alone._

He leaned towards her, "Garcia, I need to get out of here."

"Oh…uh sir, you're still recuperating."

"I'm fine." he stressed still trying to keep the smile on his face, it felt toxic. "But, these restraints," he yanked his arms, "Garcia, are they really necessary?"

"The Director thinks so."

Anger flickered quietly through Hotch.

"Okay, I get why one would think that, I've been out of sorts and...”

"Sir, you tried to kill Reid!" she blurted causing Hotch to blink, his thoughts stalling for a moment, then…

Garcia paled, "Sir, I'm sorry, I..."

"No, you're right, I did, but to be fair he was shooting at me first and I didn't know who he was. I was protecting myself."

"But you're remembering now?"

_He could sense the goodness in her. The I-see-the-good-in-every-man that was his one way ticket out of there._

"Yes," Hotch nodded. "Things are coming back in pieces, but yes I'm starting to remember." he chuckled softly.

"I'd be able to concentrate more if I could just feel my hands, can you at least loosen them a little? The nurse who put them on went a little overboard, I'm starting to lose feeling in them." his smile widened and he cocked his head to the side as he gently pulled at the restraints.

Garcia was torn; Morgan had told her everything that happened to Hotch and that for now Hotch definitely wasn't himself and to be wary. He was right, she didn't think her boss could even smile, especially after all what happened to him…and here he was smiling away at her looking like a charming schoolboy, his hair much longer than his usual cut, his eyes boyish, playful almost. It was creepy and great to see all at the same time.

"Please, I'm feeling better now." he motioned to the restraints.

He remembered who she was, maybe the good Hotch was coming back to them, not the man she saw in those photos who was probably drugged or forced to do what he did. Making up her mind up, Garcia smiled and loosened the restraints, but just slightly.

_Better safe than sorry._

As she sat back down, Hotch subtly tested the restraints.

_Perfect._

"You're the best, thanks for watching over me.” he smiled as he slowly attempted to pull one hand free.

"Wild horses, sir" she beamed, "Wild horses..."

**TBC**


	18. Chapter 18

Hotch had slipped his hand a few inches out of his restraints when the door to the room suddenly opened making him wince and quickly push his hand back in.

_Not now...not now!_

It was the red-headed nurse. He remembered seeing her the first time he was sedated, propping his pillows, fixing his sheets as he had slowly lost his hold on consciousness.

"Miss Garcia?"

Garcia looked up from her laptop, then moved to the door.

"There's a Jessica Brooks here, she says she's Agent Hotchner's sister-in-law and would like to see him." whispered Sarah.

Garcia frowned, glancing at Hotch then stepped out of the room with the nurse.

Jessica stood by the nurse's station in jeans and a white blouse, looking out of sorts; when she saw Garcia she moved towards her.

"I'd like to see him, I can't wait any longer. Jack keeps asking when his dad is coming home and I don't know what to tell him anymore!" she breathed deeply trying to catch her breath.

"It's okay…" Garcia touched her shoulder and nodded at the door.

"Does…does he remember Jack?"

"He told me he's starting to remember some things," smiled Garcia. "He said he remembered who I am. We just need to go slow with him, he's been through a lot."

Jessica nodded, lips tight and stepped to the door. Agent Cade knew that Hotch's family was on the list of approved visitors, so he nodded and held the door opened as she walked inside, the door swinging closed behind her.

Hotch almost had a full hand out of the restraints when the door re-opened.

_For the love of..!_

_Would these people just leave him alone!_

He pushed his hand back through the restraint.

"Hi Aaron." said a small voice.

He looked up at the woman standing by the door, her short blonde hair shimmering in the overhead light; and a sudden feeling of coldness rushed through him, a flash of blonde hair, a pool of blood…

Without thinking, he breathed out, "Haley?"

Jessica froze.

"Aaron, it's me, Jessica."

Hotch frowned and shook his head.

He had said something a moment ago, but he couldn't grab onto it as it left his memory.

_She said her name was Jessica._

"Hi Jessica." he smiled.

* * *

Ten minutes later he had what he needed.

She had opened up her wallet to show him a picture.

" _It's Haley, with Jack."_ Her voice sounded hopeful.

What Hotch was looking at instead was her driver's license across from the photo.

_He needed a car._

Slipping his hand from the restraint was much easier this time.

* * *

Later, Jessica would recall the events in snapshots.

One minute she was talking to Hotch.

Then pain as his hand grasped her neck.

Hotch's eyes as he forced her to undo the rest of his restraints.

The coldness in his voice when they stood by the door to the room and he made her call for the agent standing outside.

Her fear when he shoved her to the ground next to the unconscious agent, and using the man's gun ordered her to be still as he changed into the man's clothing.

Then time seemed to jump and they were outside, heading to her car; panic slamming into her at the feel of the gun he took from the agent pressed up against her back.

As they neared the car, she fumbled with her keys.

"Aaron, please..." she whispered, she needed to get through to him. She repeated his name again as she felt him grab onto her arm and she turned her head in time to see him lean to the side bending slightly as he threw up.

"Let me help you." she pleaded.

Once finished, Hotch swayed slightly, his grip still firm on her arm; he swiped the back of the hand holding the gun across his mouth and pushed her forward to the car.

"Get in...get in or I'll shoot." was his muttered response.

Once in her car, she felt his breath on her neck as he leaned forward from the back seat.

"Drive." he ordered.

* * *

Garcia had wanted to give Hotch and his sister-in-law some time alone, so she had gone to the cafeteria to get some coffee and to phone Morgan to tell him about Jessica's visit and Hotch's returning memory.

"How was the meeting?" she asked as she made her way back to the room, her cellphone to her ear and take-out cup in her other hand.

"More interrogation than meeting, Momma; we're still suspended for now pending further questioning." muttered Morgan in reply.

"Well, I have some news that will cheer you all up. Hotch is starting to remember...he knew who I was, Morgan! I told him I spoke with Jessica and Jack and I think that may have sparked his memory!"

The sudden silence on the other end made her come to a stop in the hallway.

"Derek?"

A heavy sigh echoed through the phone line.

"Garcia, you didn't tell him you spoke with them... _I_ did; that's why he knew your name...he doesn't remember you."

"But he..." she started, overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of embarrassment and dread. “Jessica...she stopped by to see him...I left them alone..."

"You need to get back to his room, now!" The urgency in Morgan's voice was all she needed to hear.

"I'm so…how could...!" Garcia severed the line and dropped her coffee in a nearby garbage, the sound of her heels echoing down the hallway as she quickly headed back to the room.

The crowd she saw around Hotch's room almost caused her knees to buckle.

_No no no no_!

She saw Hotch's doctor coming out of his room and Garcia moved towards her, past the several orderlies and nurses who stood nearby.

"What happened?" she asked, fearful that her stupidity had gotten Jessica hurt or even worse.

Dr. Allery was visibly upset.

"Agent Hotchner is gone, he got out of his restraints."

Garcia paled.

_What had she done?_

"What about Jessica, Miss Brooks?" Garcia peered into the room, gasping at the blood on the floor.

"That's Agent Cade's blood." stated the doctor. "Who is this Miss Brooks?"

"Agent Hotchner's sister-in-law, she came to visit about 15 minutes ago; Sarah, the nurse saw her."

The doctor's frown deepened.

"Sarah was found unconscious in a stairwell, she's being looked at as we speak along with Agent Cade, they both most likely have concussions." she paused. "If your Miss Brooks didn't leave on her own, she may have helped him leave or we may be looking at a possible abduction. I'll have to get the authorities involved."

"Please, not yet. Let me call my team, we'll find him and Jessica and we'll deal with the assaults on your nurse and Agent Cade."

When she saw the doctor hesitate, Garcia in a rare move grabbed the woman's arm.

"Agent Hotchner needs our help…please."

The doctor paused, surprised at the sudden seriousness of the colourful woman.

"Call your team." she finally said, pulling away from Garcia. "I need to check on Sarah and Agent Cade."

Garcia dialed quickly.

**TBC**


	19. Chapter 19

Hotch's head was throbbing; he squeezed his eyes shut recalling a blur of pink and red as he had forced the blonde woman into a stairwell as he made his escape. Striking out he had heard someone cry out, then suddenly the blur was gone and he had pushed the blonde woman forward.

He swallowed trying to quell the feeling of nausea that bombarded him, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead, his other hand shaking, holding a gun he could only vaguely remembering taking from the man who was guarding his room.

An echo of a memory...

" _Good Morning, sir."_

Hotch's eyes snapped open. He had seen the guard before, somewhere else...in a hallway, in an office...the man had greeted him as he usually did when...

Confused, Hotch frowned and patted the man's suit he was wearing, pulling out a wallet from the inside pocket of the jacket, he flipped it open.

The name Agent Foster Cade, FBI glared back at him in bold print.

Why would they keep up this charade? His brother was dead and they had grabbed him, tied him to a bed and drugged him...for what? If they wanted him to take the rap for the dead women, why all the whispers and false identities?

They kept saying that Mason did something to him. What? Cared for him? Helped him remember who he was?

A soft sob from the driver's seat made Hotch glance up, for a moment he had forgotten where he was and what was happening; he coughed and tossed the wallet aside, holding the gun tighter.

"Where are we going?" he asked the woman who seemed to be trembling as she drove.

Jessica was beside herself, she didn't know what to do. Call for help? Her phone was deep in her bag on the floor of the passenger seat, Hotch would notice her reaching for it. Crash the car? And risk killing herself or Hotch? Penelope had told her some of what Hotch had gone through; his amnesia, being drugged, tortured. Her heart went out to him...she had to try to reach him.

"I...I'm just driving around. Y-you didn't tell me where you wanted to go." Jessica swiped the tears that slipped from her eyes while glancing in the rear view mirror, her heart breaking over the lost look in Hotch's eyes.

She jerked slightly as she felt his hand touch her hair.

Hotch stared at the back of Jessica's head, the strobing streetlights highlighting her hair in flashes that Hotch couldn't seem to look away from...

_So blonde…_

_Skin and screams...blood and…_

_I want to go home._

But there was nothing there for him now. Mason was dead, they killed his brother and left him all alone. He would avenge his brother's death, but right now he needed time to think, to plot his next move, to...

"Aaron..." Jessica pleaded softly.

"That's not my name!" shouted Hotch grabbing her hair and yanking her head back.

The car swerved, Jessica startled at Hotch's outburst.

"Sorry, sorry!" she cried out, trying to keep her eyes on the road. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and pulled the car back into the proper lane, leaving the sounds of angry car horns in her wake.

Hotch let go of her hair and leaned back, he felt sick. The sway of the car not helping the nausea he was experiencing, nor the pounding in his head.

_How do you do it? How do you do this job and still have...a wife and a baby?_

"Elle?" he whispered...he was going to be sick again, Hotch squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.

"Your place." he sputtered out.

"What!" said Jessica, feeling a sudden pit in her stomach.

_No!_

"Your place, I need time to think."

Jessica's mind raced; Alice, her elderly friend and neighbor had offered to come by to watch Jack for her while she visited Hotch.

She couldn't bring Hotch there in the state he was in; she couldn't allow Jack to be reunited with his father this way. Maybe she'd drive somewhere else, maybe...

"I saw your address on your license." came a pained murmur from the backseat, as if reading her mind; a subtle warning to her.

Biting the side of her lip in blind indecision as she glanced once again at her bag and the too out of reach phone, Jessica headed home.

* * *

"Anything Garcia?"

Garcia sat perched on the edge of a chair in the nurse's lounge typing furiously on her laptop, her cellphone next to her on speaker.

"The WiFi signal isn't the greatest in here." she muttered.

'Garcia!"

"I'm trying my love!" she said more loudly. "Wait...okay. I'm in, connected to Jessica's GPS."

"Where's the car now?" asked Morgan.

After getting Garcia's frantic phone call, the team who had all driven to the meeting separately had chosen to use Rossi's personal Ford Explorer he had decided to drive that morning; Rossi freely giving Morgan the car keys as he was the fastest and most adept driver among them.

"She's just driving, there's a highway not far from where she is…oh no, what if Hotch is forcing her to drive out of the city…maybe back to that house!" She had seen pictures the forensic team took from the house that Hotch had lived/been held captive in. She couldn't imagine him thinking that was his home.

"Wait, wait." Garcia peered closer at the screen, a cup of coffee left by a nurse sitting by her side untouched.

"The car is turning off." A few seconds passed and Morgan could hear Garcia gasp over the phone.

"What is it?" Morgan almost shouted.

"I...I can't be sure, but it looks like she's heading in the direction of her apartment building!"

"Jack's there." she heard Rossi say in the background.

"Garcia, we'll head to Jessica's place, keep us informed on their location!" Morgan ordered.

"Yes of course, will do!" Garcia's heart beat wildly in her chest, as Morgan severed the line.

* * *

Jessica pulled into her parking spot in front of the small apartment building where she lived and shut off the engine.

She exhaled quietly and glanced in the rear view mirror at her ex-brother in law; her brows furrowing, her heart warring between fear and worry.

"Aaron?" she whispered warily, worried about him lashing out again.

Hotch was staring out the side window, eyes distant.

She turned to look back at him then glanced at her bag, she had to find a way to get to her phone, to warn Alice they were coming.

Hotch turned to her, a strange look in his eyes.

"You're one hell of a profiler." he murmured.

"What?" Jessica was confused.

"You said that to me, you were holding a baby."

_What was he talking about? She didn't remember saying…_

She gasped as a faint memory of her holding Jack as a baby popped into her head. She had come to visit and Jack had been crying in Hotch's arms; he had given her his son to hold because once again he had been called away to work. Haley had told him it was okay to go and Jessica had mocked him with the " _You're one hell of a profiler"_ line when she saw he couldn't tell how angry her sister was.

_But...that was years ago!_

"You remember that?"

Hotch looked past her at the apartment building.

"Is this it?"

"Aaron…"

Dark eyes glared at her. "Get out of the car."

Eyes wide, Jessica did as she was told, the faint ringing of her phone coming from the bottom of her bag.

* * *

Rossi picked up his phone on the first ring.

"Garcia, talk to me!" he shouted over the squeal of the tires.

Morgan's eyes flicked to him, then back to the road as the car raced down the street; Reid and Prentiss leaning forward from the back seat.

"Sir…the car is parked in front of Jessica's apartment building."

"For how long?"

"Just a minute or two. I tried calling her cellphone and home phone, they both go to voicemail."

"Thanks, we're on our way." Rossi hung up.

"Garcia said there's no answer from Jessica's cellphone or home line. Reid, what was the name of Jessica's neighbor, the one Hotch told us comes over to watch Jack on occasion?"

Reid's eyes flickered for a second. "Alice, Alice Hoffman."

Prentiss scrolled through her phone looking for Alice's number; giving a quick explanation to the confused stares she received.

Hotch gave me her number, he thought someone else should have it...for emergencies..." her voice slid away with a frown as she severed the call.

She shook her head. "Voicemail."

Rossi dialed Jessica's home line, the phone rang, then also went to voicemail after a few rings.

"How long, Morgan?" Rossi asked as the landscape outside the car whipped quickly by.

"It's approximately 30 minutes to Jessica's apartment building." stated Reid.

"I'll make it in 20." Morgan replied, pressing down harder on the gas pedal.

"Come on, come on…" Rossi dialed again, he remembered Hotch telling them about Alice, an older woman who visited frequently, staying with Jack when Jessica had errands to run. She was most likely still in the apartment with Jack waiting for Jessica's return. The state Hotch was in…Rossi needed her to pick up the phone, now. Unless it was too late...maybe Hotch and Jessica were already inside, maybe…

"Hello?"

**TBC**


	20. Chapter 20

Alice opened her eyes and peered tiredly at the TV screen. Something had woken her up but she was unsure what.

Sighing, she sat up on the sofa, she had fallen asleep and her show was long over. Stretching she glanced at her watch, frowning a little…

_Jessica should have been home by now._

She slowly got to her feet, and stretched some more, the ache in her hip making itself known. At sixty she wasn't that old, but sometimes her bad hip made her feel like she was ninety. She was a widow with no children of her own, so was thankful for her friendship with Jessica and the bundle of energy that was her young nephew Jack. Their friendship gave her a reason to get out of her small apartment, they made her feel needed and she was so very grateful for that.

Tightening her sweater around her, she switched off the TV and made her way through the dimly lit apartment. No need to waste electricity; one light on in the living room and a light in the hallway, the light from the open door of Jack's room adding to it. She quietly peeked in the room and smiled at the sleeping figure of Jack sprawled on his bed, an open hand-held game toy next to him.

Poor boy, he had been fighting off a cold, so after some chicken soup and some cold medicine, she had sent him off to his bed to rest. She was taking the game off when she heard the thud of a car door. Moving over to the window, she peered out from the side of the curtain to the darkness of the evening and the apartment's parking lot one floor below and watched as Jessica stood by the side of her car.

_Good she was home._

Alice frowned slightly when a man emerged from the back seat of the car; she squinted as he stepped under the halo of one of the parking lot lights.

It looked like Mr. Hotchner, Jessica's brother-in-law. Maybe that's why Jessica was late, her brother-in-law was well enough to leave the hospital and she had waited to be able to bring him home with her. She was always thinking of others that way…

The sound of the phone ringing interrupted her thoughts. Alice glanced at Jack then shuffled as quickly as she could back down the hallway to the kitchen where the phone was, by the time she got there the phone had stopped ringing.

"Of course" she muttered to herself. She turned the light on in the kitchen to read the phone's call display.

_D. Rossi_

The name sounded familiar, Rossi...a coworker of Jessica's brother-in-law perhaps. Jessica spoke on occasion about the agents of the BAU, the stories sounded amazing and a little scary at the same time to Alice.

Suddenly, the phone rang again, startling Alice. She quickly picked up the phone hoping the ringing wouldn't wake up Jack.

"Hello?"

* * *

Jessica's apartment looked out over the parking lot. She glanced up at the second floor window, Jack's light was still on.

She could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest; she had to stall.

Turning to Hotch as he exited the car, she pointed to her bag on the floor of the passenger seat, she didn't have time to grab it.

"My bag." she said reaching to open the car door. "I forgot it."

Hotch stepped from the shadows into the light of the parking lamp, his eyes looking almost black in his pale face.

Jessica froze, then turned away from the car.

"Please, wait a minute." she pleaded.

* * *

Relief washed over Rossi when he heard Alice's voice on the other end of the line.

"Is this Alice Hoffman?"

"Yes, who is this please?"

"Listen to me carefully Alice, my name is Agent Dave Rossi, I'm with the FBI, is Jessica there with you?"

"Jessica? No, but she and her brother-in-law just pulled up in her car; he's also with the FBI, do you work with him? They should be up here shortly, do you want to hold?"

"Where is Jack?"

The urgency in the man's voice was making Alice nervous.

"He's sleeping, is there something wrong, Agent Rossi?"

"Do you have time to take Jack and leave the apartment?"

Alice glanced towards the front door, her nervousness turning into fear.

"I...I don't move as fast as I used to. What's going on?" She turned to look down the hallway to Jack's room, then back at the front door.

"Okay, listen carefully, take Jack and find a place to hide. Jack's father is not well and we want to make sure that you and Jack are safe. He is most likely armed and has forced Jessica to drive him to your location."

Suddenly feeling too exposed, Alice turned off the light in the kitchen.

"I...but...Jessica, I can't..."

The tension in the car was thick as the other team members watched Rossi struggle to keep from shouting at the woman on the phone.

"Alice, you don't want Jack to wake up to a father with a gun who can't remember him. We're on our way, now go!"

Alice gasped and slammed down the phone. Taking one last look at the front door, she moved as quickly as she could down the hallway into Jack's bedroom closing the door behind her. Jessica had told her about Jack's father's abduction, the reason the boy was living with her for now. She and Jack were so happy when they heard he had been found, so why would he want to hurt Jessica or his own son?

She scanned Jack's room looking for a place for them to hide. The room wasn't that big so she was left with two choices, under the bed or in the closet. At 5'3" she was a small woman, but there was no way she would be able to squeeze under Jack's small bed with him.

She heard the faint sound of keys in the door and made her choice. As quickly and his gently as she could she picked up the sleeping Jack, ignoring his soft groan as he nestled against her, his face by her neck; then she turned with an agility that surprised even her and flicked off the bedroom light, moving deftly in the dark with her sleeping charge and slipped into the closet closing the door quietly behind them.

* * *

" _Please, wait a minute."_

Jessica turned holding up her palm towards Hotch, too cognizant of the gun he had gripped in his hand.

"You...you told me not to call you Aaron. So what should I call you? What's your name?"

Hotch faltered for a moment, _was she part of their game?_

No...Mason was dead, there was no more need for games, just revenge. He had met all the members of the BAU, she wasn't one of them, but she might have info on where to find them, he just...he just needed time to think. His headache was making itself known again, he pressed his fingers against the side of his head in pain.

"I want to help you." the woman pleaded, "Tell me your name."

Jessica flinched as she saw a shadow pass over Hotch's face and he stared at her with a clarity or a sudden madness, she wasn't sure which but it chilled her.

"My name is Cullen Ezral."

Hotch then grabbed her arm pulling her towards the building.

* * *

The semi-darkness of the apartment surprised Jessica, but gave her a ray of hope.

_Maybe Alice saw her with Hotch and took Jack with her back to her apartment?_

_But she wouldn't know there was any danger._

_Maybe she saw the gun._

_Her eyesight isn't that good though…_

"You live alone?"

She could feel Hotch's presence behind her as he pushed her forward swinging the front door shut behind him.

Jessica's mind was racing.

_Should I lie and say yes?_

_He didn't lock the door, maybe I could make a run for it._

_But what if Jack and Alice are still in here somewhere?_

_"_ No." She answered as he pushed her further into the shadows of the apartment. "My nephew... _Jack,_ he's staying with me for a while, but he's not here, he's at a sleepover." she continued quickly, when her stressing Jack's name had no effect on Hotch.

They moved through the apartment, Jessica switching on lights; one of Hotch's hand on her shoulder guiding her forward, the other holding the gun pressed into the small of her back.

"What's down there?" he motioned at the dimly lit hallway.

"Bedrooms, a bathroom."

Jessica's chest tightened as he pushed her down the hallway, her mind screaming out in silence.

_If you're hiding, Alice, keep Jack quiet! If he hears his father's voice..._

Hotch pushed the first door open, it was a small bathroom, the second door across from it...

"My room." murmured Jessica turning the light on.

Hotch turned to the last closed door.

"My nephew's room."

"Open it." he ordered.

She swallowed heavily and turned the doorknob, as the door slowly swung open, Hotch reached over and turned on the light.

"See, she said motioning at the small bed and toys, her eyes widening at the small gasp she heard emanating from the closet on the far side of the room.

_Oh god, they were in the closet._

She held her breath hoping that Hotch didn't hear anything.

Hotch scanned the toys scattered around the room.

_She hadn't lied about the kid._

_Maybe she wouldn't lie about other things too._

As he pulled her from the room, Jessica thankfully grabbed a hold of the doorknob and closed the door behind them.

* * *

Alice couldn't control her gasp as the light in the room flicked on. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath as she held the sleeping Jack tightly, her hip was beginning to ache and Jack was beginning to squirm.

_Don't wake up, little one. Not yet...not yet!_ She pleaded silently.

**TBC**


	21. Chapter 21

" _Take the knife, Cullen."_

" _I'm not ready."_

" _How can you say you're not ready after everything we've done? Don't you get that I'm trying to help you, brother?"_

" _I know…and I'm grateful. Without you I don't know if I would have found my way back to myself."_

" _So take the knife."_

" _Not yet_ _…the next one, I promise, Mason. Believe me…_ _"_

" _Believe you? Why should I? After everything we've done, are you still that weak? Maybe the BAU did too good a number on you, brother! Maybe you'd prefer to be with them, because it sure doesn't seem you want anything to do with your real life with me...doing what has always come natural to us!"_

" _What? No! That's not...why are mad at me, Mason?"_

" _I showed you who you were, when all you had was a blank slate and each time I asked you to hold the blade, you've refused. You're not complete brother…you never will be until you do what I ask of you."_

" _I..."_

_"I know, I know. Next time...you promise."_

" _I do...I…”_

* * *

"…promise, Mason."

"Aaron?" whispered Jessica.

No response.

"Cullen?"

Hotch blinked, a soft shuttered gasp emanating from his lips.

_Where was he?_

He looked around, they were halfway down the hallway. One of his hands was gripping the woman's arm tightly, his gun hand lowered to his side. He was trembling, his head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice.

Jessica was trying to control herself, they were heading away from the bedrooms which was a great thing; but then Hotch suddenly stopped, his grip on her arm tightening. She turned her head to ask him what the matter was, her voice low, small.

But her words froze in her mouth at his pained far away gaze and when he started to shake, panicked thoughts flickered through her mind.

_Is he having a seizure?_

_Take the gun!_

_Call 911!_

But Hotch's hand was like a vise and she couldn't move, she could only stand there in the silence wishing they were a little further away from Jack's door.

Hotch stared at the woman in front of him.

He had promised his brother, but they had killed Mason before Hotch had a chance to show him that he _was_ complete, that he _was_ able to pick up the knife.

Hotch had glanced a knife block in the kitchen as they had entered into the apartment after some lights had been turned on.

He'd force the woman to tell him where the members of the BAU lived. Then the cult of skin and screams, blood and bone would have one more offering.

_He promised Mason._

* * *

Garcia had called JJ who had been kept busy dealing with the media, to let her know what was happening.

After a tense meeting with Strauss, JJ made her way to the hospital to talk to Agent Cade and Sarah, the nurse.

They had agreed to not press charges against Hotch, and they both hoped he was found safe along with his sister-in-law.

After, JJ had joined Garcia in the hospital's security office, where she was looking at the footage of the parking lot at the approximate time Hotch had left taking Jessica with him.

They watched Hotch and Jessica enter into the camera's frame. They were walking close to each other, Hotch slightly behind her, one hand hidden from view. They were weaving slightly as they walked, Hotch the one doing the weaving, Jessica forced to keep in step with him.

"This is all my fault." groaned Garcia. "I let Hotch fool me."

"No, Garcia." stated JJ. Garcia had told her about loosening Hotch's restraints.

JJ pointed at the monitor "That is not _our_ Hotch. The man who tricked you into helping him was confused and saw your goodness, using it for his own benefit. Your goodness is not a fault, Penelope."

Garcia smiled tightly, her eyes still glued to the monitor. Her mind warring over JJ's words and her guilt. When her phone rang, she put Prentiss on speaker.

"Emily, are you guys there yet?" asked Garcia.

'No, there was a problem; a car accident on our route, we had to take a detour."

"Emily, how long until you get there?" asked JJ.

"JJ…" sighed Prentiss, hearing her voice. “I'm guessing Strauss knows then?"

"I had to tell her. She's looking the other way with this because of our suspension. All she wants is Hotch back in the hospital with no new casualties; her word, not mine, in his wake. The good news and quite helpful is that Agent Cade and the nurse have decided not to press charges."

"Definitely good news, I'll tell the others. We should be there in about 10 minutes, Morgan is burning the tarmac; is the car still outside Jessica's?"

"Yes, still there." answered Garcia. "You guys hurry though."

"We will, call you when everyone's safe." Prentiss severed the line.

Garcia turned to JJ. "Everything's going to be okay, right?"

"We just need to get to Hotch before he hurts himself…or anyone else." replied JJ.

"Do you really think he'd hurt Jessica? Hurt Jack?"

They watched more of the footage as Hotch and Jessica neared her car and Hotch grabbed onto the scared woman as he bent and threw up.

"I don't think he would mean to." replied JJ.

* * *

Hotch was getting upset with the woman. They had made a detour though the kitchen where he grabbed a large knife from the knife block on the counter and then forced her towards the living room. He ordered her down on the couch, where she sat staring at him wide eyed as he asked her over and over for the addresses of the BAU members.

"Aaron, I..."

She saw him bristle. "I...I mean Cullen, I really don't know where they live!"

"You claim to know me, they claim to know me. I know you're working together with them; I just want to know why the games?"

Suddenly, a shout of pain echoed through Hotch's head, his brow furrowing as he pressed the back of the hand holding the knife to his forehead.

Jessica glanced at the hallway, then quickly back to Hotch as he lowered his hand.

"I have Agent Jareau's number." she murmured, "But it's in my cellphone."

"Where's your phone?"

Jessica hesitated for a moment. "In my bag, in the car."

Hotch's eyes narrowed. "Of course it is."

He moved over to a desk in the corner and after placing the knife on it quickly rummaged through the drawers with one hand, the other holding the gun aiming it deftly at Jessica.

Finding nothing regarding the BAU, he turned back to the woman on the couch when an image of a man painfully flashed through his mind. He gasped, bending over the desk and lowering the gun.

Without thinking, Jessica stood and made her way towards him. "Are you o..." she began.

Hotch's head shot up, his face etched in pain. He blinked rapidly to focus as he aimed the gun at the approaching woman.

"Gideon…who's Gideon?" He demanded.

Jessica froze. "I…"

Hotch snarled and tossing the gun aside, he grabbed the knife and lunged at Jessica grabbing her by the throat and pulling her to the ground. He had enough of this...enough of everything. He was Cullen Ezral, Mason's big brother. This woman, the BAU, they would learn this the hard way. Kneeling, he straddled her pressing the knife against her cheek, his other hand tightening on her throat as he leaned forward to her ear. His voice low and menacing.

" _No_ _… more… games!"_

* * *

Alice flinched as she heard a thud coming from somewhere in the apartment. She bit her lip as she quietly tried to control her emotions.

Her friend Jessica was out there, God knows what was happening to her! She needed to help her...she needed to do something! Alice squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, her eyes snapping open when her small charge squirmed once again in her arms.

_Not yet, Jack. Not yet!_

_Agent Rossi, where are you?_

* * *

The Explorer pulled into Jessica's apartment parking lot and the team quickly got out and grouped near the car.

"So how are we going to do this?" asked Prentiss, as they all except Reid pulled out their personal weapons that they had chosen to carry after they had handed in their assigned ones with their badges.

"Very calmly." Rossi replied, and motioned to his gun. "These are just a last resort. It's Hotch in there, we have to get through to him somehow."

"And if we don't?" fretted Reid.

"Kid, that's not an option." muttered Morgan.

They quickly made their way to the building.

* * *

Hotch...Hotch was spilling.

Kneeling over the woman, images of unknown people and places were flickering through his mind like a broken projector. Each image filling his heated brain until they were running over the brim in his mind, spiking his anger and frustration; he was losing control.

The woman beneath him was staring at him as she trembled violently.

"Aaron, it's me Jessica. I'm Jessica, Haley's sister, Jack's aunt. Remember, please remember." The desperation in her murmured litany, the names she was calling out; images flashed through his mind, too fast for him to hold onto, the cup in his mind cracking under the onslaught.

Grabbing the woman by the shoulders he shook her, her head bouncing against the living room floor.

"Enough!" He growled.

Jessica immediately silenced, her wide eyes never leaving Hotch's dark ones.

"I'll find the BAU on my own."

Using the knife he ripped open Jessica's blouse, the sound of her buttons clicked across the floor of the living room as they scattered.

Staring at her torso for a moment, he smiled then grabbed her, quickly slicing away a length of skin down the side of her stomach.

Jessica bucked, and gasped loudly, her eyes filling with tears, but then she fell quiet almost right away; she couldn't scream... _Jack would hear._

Hotch frowned as he held the length of skin up for her to see.

She continued to stare at him, as her tears pooled in her eyes, a few drops escaping down the side of her face; her lips tightly closed, her body shaking.

"You...you're supposed to scream." he muttered.

Wide eyes stared back at him.

_Why wasn't she screaming?_

_He was not going to be complete!_

_No...no_ _…_ _no_ _…_

"SCREAM!" he shouted.

* * *

In the darkness of the closet, Jack's eyes flew open.

"Daddy?"

**TBC**


	22. Chapter 22

The team quietly entered the apartment, surprised but grateful that the door was unlocked. As they walked past the kitchen they froze as they heard Hotch's shout coming from the living room up ahead.

_"SCREAM!"_

They froze for a split second, then Morgan looked at Reid and motioned towards the hallway.

_Find Jack._ He mouthed.

Reid nodded and quietly made his way down the hallway.

The others moved forward, guns held high as they entered the living room; their minds stumbling at the sight in front of them. Jessica was lying on the floor next to the couch, Hotch was straddling her, both of them bloodied.

Hotch was holding…

… _it looked like…_

Their eyes widened.

_Skin._

Hotch was facing in their direction, but his face, a mass of confusion and anger was looking down at Jessica. His bloody hands holding the skin in one hand, the blood stained knife in the other.

"Why won't you scream?" his voice was pained, low.

"Hotch?" whispered Morgan, aghast at what he was seeing.

Hotch's head snapped up to see who had spoken, then with a low growl he dropped the skin and grabbed Jessica by the hair pulling her towards him. He twisted her around as they both fell against the wall next to the couch, so she was in front of him; her back to his chest, both their legs sprawled out in front of them on the floor.

"Agent Morgan." she cried softly, her relief, tangible.

_The team had come._

Morgan glanced over at Prentiss and Rossi, they both looked as astonished as he did.

"Hotch!" Morgan repeated a little louder, the grip on his gun tightening.

Prentiss followed suit, but Rossi just stared at Hotch who had pulled Jessica back against him, his legs overlapping hers and locking them around his, the knife he was holding tight against her neck.

"Coming to take her away?" hissed Hotch, his face scrunched in pain. His mind was all jumbled, he just wanted his control back and these people were here to take it from him.

Rossi looked at his unraveled friend and his heart ached. If he hadn't already killed Mason, he would have taken pleasure in ripping him apart for what he had done to his friend….his son.

Rossi slowly put his gun down on the nearby desk. He held a hand up to Morgan motioning for him to back away, he did the same to Prentiss.

"Rossi..." Morgan shook his head.

The older agent gave him a look and Morgan grimaced but slowly moved back, he nodded at Prentiss to do the same, but they stopped just short of leaving the room altogether.

Rossi looked at them and nodded then turned back to Hotch, whose brows were furrowed as he held onto Jessica, the knife dangerously pressed to her neck.

Rossi heavily eyed, the wound on Jessica's torso and remembered what Hotch had shouted.

He had wanted her to scream.

He took a step forward and crouched so he was at eye level with Hotch and Jessica. Shaking, she stared directly at him then her eyes flicked in the direction of the hallway, then back to him again.

Rossi nodded his understanding.

His eyes warming to a silent… _Don't worry._

Then he turned back to his friend. "You never told us your name."

Hotch's eyes were mere slits now, the pain in his head ripping him apart. Images of dead faces, images of himself holding a gun.

_Why would he be holding a gun? Knives were the true weapon of choice, Mason said so._

Hotch groaned as the images continued like a whirlwind.

"Stop...s-stop..." he muttered, knocking the back of his head softly against the wall.

_"_ Hey _."_

Hotch blinked coming back to himself to find Rossi a few inches closer to him and the woman.

Hotch grunted and grabbed Jessica tighter, the knife tight across her neck now drawing blood.

"Rossi!" hissed Morgan from somewhere behind him.

Rossi turned his head shaking it slightly, then turned back to Hotch; Rossi's brows furrowed watching Jessica, bloody, eyes wide, desperate as she used her hands to press down on her wound while keeping her head back, straining away from the blade; he sighed heavily then looked at his friend.

"Tell us who you are." he ordered Hotch.

"You know who I am." Hotch grunted.

"Maybe you're unsure...maybe you don't really know." said Rossi, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

Hotch paused for a moment, a strange look of pride slipping over his face.

"I'm Cullen Ezral. Mason's older brother...his protector."

Rossi's eyes never left Hotch's face, he nodded slowly.

"Well Cullen...I'm the one who killed your brother."

* * *

Reid moved quietly down the hallway; he quickly checked the bathroom and Jessica's bedroom for hiding places. Having no luck he moved over to Jack's bedroom, flicking on the light and scanning the small space.

"Jack?" he whispered.

No response.

He turned to the closet; if Jack and Alice were not in there he wasn't sure where they could be.

As his hand reached for the knob, the door suddenly flew open banging against the adjacent wall. A small woman stood there, her arm held high holding a Transformer toy like a weapon.

"No!" she shouted her voice guttural, protective.

Reid stepped back and raised one of his hands, the other subconsciously touching his waist where his holster used to be.

It was Alice, he had found her.

He stepped forward, "Alice, my name is Spencer and I'm here with my team, with Agent Rossi."

"Rossi?" Alice sighed and dropped the toy, leaning heavily against the side of the doorway as she grabbed onto her hip.

"Thank, God." she whispered.

"Alice, where's Jack?"

The older woman nodded, eyes wide and turned around moving aside a pile of clothes. Jack was curled up under the clothes on the floor, thumb in mouth a lost look on his young face.

The woman whispered to Reid. "He woke up not too long ago, he thought he heard his Daddy's voice; but I told him he was wrong and that we had to stay here and hide, because a bad man was in the apartment." Alice grabbed Reid's arm.

"Is Jack's daddy a bad man, Spencer?"

Reid opened his mouth to speak, but didn't know how to answer that question so he turned to Jack.

"Hey Jack, do you remember me? Uncle Spencer?"

Jack pulled his thumb out of his mouth and slowly sat up, squinting slightly from the bedroom's light.

He looked at Reid, then Alice, then back to Reid.

"Uncle Spencer, I heard my daddy, but Auntie Alice told me a bad man was here and we had to hide."

The look of fear on Jack's face broke Reid's heart. Reid helped him up.

"I'm going to get you and Auntie Alice to a safe place now, okay?"

Jack nodded and took Reid's offered hand. Reid nodded at Alice telling them both to be as quiet as possible and they headed towards the bedroom door. Suddenly Alice collapsed and Reid quickly let go of Jack's hand to grab her before she hit the floor.

"I'm sorry, it's my hip." she whispered through gritted teeth. "It's locked up from the cramped quarters." she nodded at the closet.

As Reid helped her to her feet, neither of them noticed Jack shuffling towards the open bedroom door, his small face intent on the voices coming from in the apartment. He heard Uncle Derek's and Uncle Dave's voices; they were his Daddy's friends, so if they were here with Uncle Spencer, maybe, just maybe...

Hotch's loud voice echoed through the apartment.

Jack gasped, his eyes lighting up.

It _was_ Daddy! He _is_ home! Thought Jack and ran towards the living room as fast as his legs would allow him, a huge smile on his face.

* * *

" _Well...Cullen, I'm the one who killed your brother."_

Rossi's words had frozen the very air, he could feel Prentiss' and Morgan's tension like a block of ice against his back, but no one moved. In front of him Hotch and Jessica both stared at him like mannequins posed in a macabre scene of blood and anguish.

Rossi took in Hotch's deadly glare and shifted his feet slightly then continued.

"Why would you want _her_ , when you can have the man who killed your so called brother? Rossi raised his arms wide, I'm unarmed and she, is just a poor substitute." he stated, nodding at Jessica who suddenly seemed to reanimate, her legs unconsciously knocking against Hotch's clamped legs. One of her hands weakly pulled at Hotch's knife arm, the other clasping painfully at the wound on her stomach.

Hotch blinked slowly, Rossi's words unfreezing him, then he glanced at the struggling woman in his arms. Silent for a moment, he remembered the last image he saw of his brother; gray skin, bullet holes next to the autopsy stitching where they had cut him open.

Cold disdain dripped from Hotch's face as he unlocked his legs from Jessica's. With his free hand he grabbed her tightly around the waist, then using the wall behind him, pressed against it and slowly inched his way up. Pulling a pale and bloodied Jessica up in front of him to a standing position, all the while staring at Rossi.

"You could have blown my head off just now, save your friend here." he motioned with his chin at Jessica.

"My weapon is on the desk, Aaron."

"Cullen." corrected Hotch. "And theirs aren't." he glanced at Prentiss and Morgan, his gaze returning to Rossi. "Why? Why'd you kill him?"

"He was going to kill one us," Rossi motioned slightly in Morgan's direction. "And to be honest? I'd do it again if I had the chance, for taking you away from us...for hurting you the way he did."

"Hurting me?" Hotch snorted. He looked down at Jessica. "When I'm done with _it_ , here," he hefted her up some; "And I leave this place, you'll find me at your door one night, then I'll show you the true meaning of hurt.”

Ignoring Hotch's threat, Rossi slowly stood up. "Cullen..." he needed to ask the question the team all needed the answer to.

"Did you kill those women?"

Hotch tilted his head slightly, eyes flashing almost manic.

"Which women?"

Rossi just stared at him, waiting patiently.

After a moment, Hotch twitched then sneered and grabbed Jessica tighter.

"No, how could I, after what you people did to me? I wasn't complete yet, but...I helped _catch_ them! I helped my brother, just like he helped me!"

Prentiss felt her heart breaking and stepped forward.

"Hotch, please... _we_ want to help you."

The echo of a smile that slipped over Hotch's face held a sudden dread for the others.

"I don't want your help." He glanced down at Jessica as he held the knife tighter and moved it down to her back, remembering in his mind the first time his brother had showed him what their purpose was.

A sudden influx of thoughts jarred him...

_Don't_

_Don't do it._

_This is right! Mason showed me what to do._

_Wait, just listen to them!_

_They're stalling for time._

_She didn't scream._

_Skip to the blood._

_But it's not complete, I won't be complete!_

_Skip to the blood._

_Skip._

_To._

_The._

_Blood!_

"Jessica is not an it, Cullen." pressed Rossi, noticing Hotch's movement.

Morgan stepped forward, lowering his weapon. "Hotch, she's a woman, a human being, you know her. Please, we're trying to help you...lower the knife, let her...!"

_"IT DIDN'T SCREAM!"_ Hotch shouted, causing the team to flinch.

Hotch shook his head slightly, they just weren't getting it.

"I have to skip to the blood." he said factually. "You can have it when I'm through."

Hotch pressed the tip of the knife against Jessica's lower back...and pushed.

The team saw Jessica's eyes widen in pain.

"Cullen!" shouted Rossi. "Hotch, no!"

Morgan raised his gun and surged forward, Prentiss following suit.

"Hotch! STOP!" Morgan shouted, his finger on the trigger of his gun; he could only get a head shot, Jessica was blocking the rest of Hotch's body. The cold horror of what he was about to do washed over Morgan.

And then...

Jessica finally... _screamed_.

And everything slowed in that split second. Prentiss and Rossi's eyes wide in disbelief at what they were witnessing, and Morgan feeling the cold slickness of the trigger as his finger pulled back on it.

Then suddenly, Jessica's scream was joined by a smaller one, but no less loud; from a child whose scream held such a mixture of fright and longing, that even time itself could not help but stop and listen.

"DADDY!" screamed Jack.

**TBC**


	23. Chapter 23

_"DADDY!" screamed Jack._

In the midst of the chaos, no one had noticed Hotch's son standing behind them at the edge of the living room, with just enough space between Rossi and Morgan for his wide eyes to see his Daddy and Auntie Jess.

_He was hurting her!_

_Daddy's the bad man?_

And like a hiccup, time restarted and Morgan wouldn't be able to say later how he did it; but at the sound of Jack's scream, as Morgan depressed the trigger of his gun, he twitched his wrist an inch to the left sending the bullet that would have ended his friend's life a hair's breadth away into the wall by his head.

Later, he'd say with haunted eyes to those who asked that it was _Jack_ who had saved his father's life that night.

Out of the corner of his eye, Morgan watched as Prentiss spun and raced towards Jack; scooping up the now sobbing child, her body blocking his view as she ran from the living room towards the hallway, running into Reid whose shocked face startled Jack who started screaming again and struggling in Prentiss' arms.

"Alice is in Jack's room, he ran out before..." started Reid.

"Get him out of here!" Prentiss' voice, a frantic order.

She poured the screaming child into Reid's arms and raced back to the living room.

"Is Hotch..." Reid began to ask, but Prentiss was gone.

Swallowing heavily, Reid stared in the direction of the living room, then holding onto his friend's son raced back down the hallway to Alice who was sitting on Jack's bed.

Alice's eyes were wide, fearful. "What happened?" she asked. "I heard a gunshot!"

"I'm not sure yet." he deposited a screaming Jack into her lap where she automatically started to soothe the boy, drawing him closer to her and rubbing small circles on his back.

Reid glanced around the room spotting a child's music player with headphones attached on the floor nearby, he grabbed it placing it on the bed next to Alice.

"Please..."

Alice stared at Reid for a moment, understanding, then pulled the music player closer.

"I'll take care of him, Spencer."

Reid nodded his thanks then left, quickly closing the door tightly behind him.

Alice looked at the child in her arms and her heart went out to him; he saw something he never should have seen, that was for sure.

"Sweet boy." she murmured rocking him gently.

Jack had quieted somewhat, lying in her arms his thumb in his mouth, his tears staining his chubby cheeks.

Alice smiled a smile she didn't feel and raised the headphones near him.

"Let's listen to something fun, why don't we?" she said, her eyes glancing at the bedroom door, her heart dreading what lay beyond it.

* * *

_It was finally screaming…good...good._ Hotch smiled.

But...suddenly someone else was screaming too.

Hotch's eyes landed on a little boy standing behind the BAU team. Not even noticing the sting of air, as the bullet Morgan fired whizzed by his ear into the wall next to him.

The boy was staring straight at him, what did he say?

_Daddy?_

_He didn't have a son, why would the...why..?_

His mind seized, making him cry out, his eyes squeezing shut.

_Images swirled around him like jagged pieces of glass, painfully scraping across his brain. Then suddenly, they all came to a jarring halt and he could see them all in their harsh clarity._

Hotch gasped, his eyes snapping open.

"Jack?"

He saw Prentiss sweep the boy up and run out of the room…

"Jack!"

He went to make after his son, when he heard someone shouting his name.

"Hotch!"

He glanced across the room to find Morgan and Rossi starting towards him, Morgan holstering his weapon.

_Why was..?_

Hotch looked down and lost his ability to breathe.

He was holding up someone, a woman. There was blood everywhere! When he saw that he was gripping a knife, some of it already embedded in the woman's back, the shock made him let go of the knife and the woman and press back against the wall behind him horrified, gasping for breath.

Morgan grabbed onto the now unconscious Jessica as she slipped from Hotch's grasp and lowered her to her side on the floor. He checked the knife wound and exhaled softly when he saw that only half of the blade had made its way in.

Jack may have also saved his Auntie Jess' life too, this night.

When Morgan had lowered the woman to the ground, Hotch got a look at her face and horror enveloped him.

"J-Jessica!"

He stepped forward to go to her but strong arms gently pushed him back. Confused, he looked to see Rossi standing in front of him.

"Dave?" He grabbed onto one of Rossi's arms. “What's going on? Where's Jack?"

"Hotch...stop. Stop!" Rossi shook him by the shoulders.

Hotch looked over at Prentiss who with a phone by her ear, was suddenly standing over Jessica.

_He didn't understand, were they on a case?_ He saw Reid enter the living room with mouth ajar.

_What's happening?_ Hotch gasped for breath, his legs slowly collapsing under him.

He could feel Rossi's strong arms holding on as he slid down the side of the wall.

"He's going into shock!" Hotch heard Rossi now crouched next to him shout, but his voice sounded muffled.

"Aaron!"

He watched as if in slow motion, Reid crouching down next to Rossi.

"Hotch, it's okay, it's okay..." Reid said.

But Hotch could barely hear anything now, except for his strained breathing and as he stared at the blood on his trembling hands, he whispered…

"What did I do? What did I do?"

Hotch closed his eyes slipping away into the beckoning darkness, unaware of the hands of Reid and Rossi holding on to him as the rest of his body sank slowly sideways to the ground.

With heavy eyes Rossi stared at his friend.

They had gotten him back, but at what cost?

**TBC**


	24. Chapter 24

_“It's been two days, when is he going to wake up?”_

_“You have to give him time, his mind and body have been through a lot.”_

_“Hotch?”_

_“Open your eyes, man...enough is enough.”_

* * *

The dusky sky was settling in outside the window as Prentiss sat absent-mindedly flipping through a magazine, her mind on the events two nights before. The team had been through so much. Hotch, even more...

Sighing, she looked over at Reid who sat in a chair on the other side of the bed, his eyes closed. She knew he wasn't asleep though; none of them could sleep, there was just too much to worry about.

After Alice and Jack had been checked out at the hospital, Alice had returned home with a promise from Rossi, that he'd keep her updated on Jessica's progress. Garcia had taken Jack home with her; he hadn't said a word since leaving Jessica's apartment, but had clung to Garcia desperately as she stood by the bedside as he was being examined.

Jessica after arriving at the hospital went straight to surgery, the team had taken turns checking up on her progress; with news that she was waking up, it was Rossi's turn.

Morgan had gone to speak to Hotch's doctor, frustrated that he was still unconscious more than twenty-four hours after the fact. JJ and Strauss were dealing with the police; a neighbor of Jessica's had called 911 after hearing her scream and the gunshot.

Prentiss sighed deeply and looked up to find two confused and tired brown eyes watching her. She quickly put the magazine down and stood by the side of the bed.

"Hotch?"

Hotch's brows furrowed as his eyes left Prentiss' to scan the room he was in.

"H'spital?" he rasped, his throat felt gritty.

"Here." said Reid softly. A cup of water with a straw appeared near Hotch's mouth, startling the older agent; he hadn't noticed Reid standing on the other side of the bed.

"Reid." He murmured.

He sipped some water, the coolness soothing his throat then nodded and Reid pulled the cup away.

"Hotch?" Prentiss' voice was soft...careful. "Do you remember what happened?"

"I…" Hotch frowned.

_Screaming…_ _._

_Someone was screaming?_

"Jack!"

Hotch sat up in the bed, yanking at the wires attached to him. Alarms started going off from the instruments they were attached to.

Prentiss and Reid grabbed at him trying to lower him back to the bed.

_Blood…Jessica…_ _Jack_ _…_ _._

_Jack was screaming!_

"Hotch!" Prentiss shouted. "Stop, stop! Jack's okay!"

Hotch continued to struggle, forcing Prentiss to grab the sides of his face.

"Please!" Her voice was quiet but adamant which got Hotch's attention.

"They'll put you in restraints again if you don't _calm down!"_

Hotch stilled, his eyes widening.

_Restraints?_

His breaths were ragged as he grabbed Prentiss' arm.

_He was in the hospital…something had happened, but he wasn't sure what._

"Prentiss." he finally said; his voice full of a question he wasn't sure he should ask.

Morgan, Doctor Allery and a nurse appeared in the doorway at that moment alerted by the alarms of the instruments in the room.

"He's awake." said Reid, whose smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Morgan glanced at the bed as he pulled his cellphone from his pocket to let Rossi know. He watched as Dr. Allery and the nurse moved to check on Hotch.

It took a few minutes, but once the instruments quieted down and Dr. Allery checked over her patient, she stepped back.

"It's good to see you're awake. Do you feel up to answering a few questions?"

"Only if you'll answer some of mine." replied Hotch, confusion in his voice.

Dr. Allery smiled. "Do you know your name?"

"Aaron Hotchner."

Rossi who had entered the room moments before, nodded at Hotch with a smile. Once the doctor finished up, he had some good news for his friend. A few minutes after awakening from surgery and realizing where she was, Jessica with a cracked and tired voice had asked how Jack _and_ Hotch were.

After a few moments talking with her and as her eyes slowly closed towards sleep, she had murmured…

"Tell...tell Aaron.. _._ I forgive him."

* * *

Sitting by the side of her bed, Garcia hung up her phone, a smile on her face. Rossi had called her on the way back to Hotch's room with an update. Hotch had finally woken up and Jessica was out of surgery and was going to be okay.

Garcia looked over at Jack who was sitting quietly in her bed playing his hand held electronic game.

"Jack sweetie," she squeezed his leg gently. "I have good news! Your daddy and auntie Jessica are going to be okay."

Jack looked at her, subtle hope in his young eyes. "I want Auntie Jess." he said softly.

"You'll get to see her soon...I promise."

Jack looked at her for a beat more than turned back to his game making Garcia frown.

"Jack...you'll get to see your daddy too."

The sudden fear in Jack's eyes deepened Garcia's concern.

"Auntie Penny?"

"What's wrong, honey?" Garcia sat on the side of the bed.

"I don't want daddy." Jack said, his lower lip trembling.

He motioned Garcia to lean in, whispering in her ear…

"My daddy's the _bad_ man."

* * *

"Do you know where you are?" continued the doctor.

"Where's Jack?"

The doctor was closest to Hotch, but he was looking past her to Rossi and the others standing at the foot of his bed.

"Agent Hotchner." pleaded the doctor.

"I answered your question, you answer mine." the look Hotch gave the doctor held no room for argument.

Morgan cleared his throat.

"Hotch man, answer her questions." he said avoiding looking directly at the team leader.

"Morgan?" frowned Hotch.

_Why can't he look at me?_

Morgan sighed looking directly at him and Hotch's eyes widened; an image of Morgan kneeling next to a bloodied Jessica overwhelming him.

Hotch looked down at the bed… _there was blood on his hands…_

_Jessica wasn't moving…_ _Jack_ _…Jack was screaming!_

Someone was shaking him by the shoulder.

"Agent Hotchner! Breathe...breathe!"

Hotch gasped, jerking back to awareness, the doctor leaning over him, the team closer to the bed their eyes wide with worry.

Breathing heavily, he couldn't control the fear and confusion that brewed overflowing into his words.

"Get out! Everybody, get out!"

"Hotch?" Prentiss reached out to him.

Hotch flinched away from her hand.

"Get out…Prentiss...please…go!"

Rossi whispered something to the doctor and with lips tight with worry she nodded then stood and turned to the door. As everyone started to file out Hotch murmured…

"Not you, Morgan."

After everyone left, Hotch took a breath then looked Morgan squarely in the eyes.

_The "Hotch" stare had returned._

"Tell me." he ordered the younger man.

"Hotch, come on...I think you..."

"That wasn't a request. _Tell me_ Morgan."

Morgan, with hands on hips stared at Hotch for a moment, then shaking his head sat on the edge of the bed.

"Hotch...what month is it?"

Hotch frowned, "June...and enough of those questions, I'm fine!"

Sympathy joined concern in Morgan's brown eyes as he looked at his friend and leader.

"Hotch...

It's not June. It's _October;_ you've been missing for four months."

**TBC**


	25. Chapter 25

The hospital cafeteria grew busier as the lunch hour neared. Morgan took a sip of his coffee then set his cup down on the table and stared into it as if it would show him that things were going to be okay, or if he had truly messed up hours before when he had spoken to Hotch.

"He's going to be fine." said Prentiss, across from him.

Morgan eyes snapped up towards her.

"Fine?" he asked tiredly, with a hint of sarcasm. "He hasn't spoken since I told him! You didn't see the look on his face, he was _devastated_ , Prentiss. He had that same look when he found Haley's body… and I did that to him!"

Prentiss reached out, her fingers lightly touching Morgan's arm.

"Someone was going to have to tell him eventually."

Morgan slammed his fist down on the table, jostling their coffee cups and startling nearby patrons.

"But it shouldn't have been me! My God, I couldn't even tell him about the photos that we saw! I had to stop, I…I couldn't hurt him anymore."

Prentiss sensed there was something more to Morgan's outburst, she had never seen him like this.

"What is it, Morgan? What aren't you saying?"

Morgan stared at her for a moment, then exhaled and looked away.

"It shouldn't have been me, he sees me as his friend. He…he doesn't even remember what I did."

"What did you do?" Prentiss gripped his arm. "Say it!"

"I...I almost _killed_ him! You were there, if Jack hadn't screamed…"

"You would have shot Hotch in the head." finished Prentiss, a chill running through her at that thought.

Morgan tensed in his chair. "Yes."

Prentiss sighed, "Aren't you being a little hypocritical?"

"Excuse me?"

"When Reid told us how he felt about what happened in the woods you told him that it wasn't _our_ Hotch he was shooting at. Do you feel differently about that because _you_ were the one doing the shooting?"

Morgan huffed, brows furrowing.

"I'm not discounting your feelings." stressed Prentiss, "I just want you to remember that the man in the bed upstairs is not the man who attacked Reid, hurt Jessica or scared little Jack. We got _our_ Hotch back, and anything he's said or done...or anything we've said or done in the between…well, we'll find a way to get through it…we have to."

Morgan blinked, the tension suddenly leaving his body in an exhaled breath; he patted Prentiss' hand on his arm.

"Okay, okay…you're right. Thanks."

Prentiss smiled and stood scooping up the two lukewarm coffees.

"Let's get some fresh coffee and go see how the boss is doing."

"Thought _I_ was the boss." joked Morgan, standing with her.

"Your days behind _that_ desk are numbered, my friend." Prentiss replied.

"Don't I know it." grinned Morgan. "And it's about time."

* * *

Rossi sat by the side of Hotch's bed, staring at the untouched tray of food nearby, a smile forming on his lips. He looked over at Hotch who was silently staring at the ceiling.

"You didn't eat your food…again." he smirked. "I'm experiencing some déjà vu here Hotch, please feel free to tell me to shut up."

Rossi leaned forward, hands clasped. "Aaron, we're worried. We can't help you if you don't talk to us. JJ called earlier; she and Strauss have been working on keeping your name cleared with help from the woman you helped escape from that motel room. She's been talking to the media, putting in a good word for you, her hero."

Hotch remained silent.

"Morgan told me he told you about her, she's alive because of you. As to everything else, Ezral hurt you Aaron. You were tortured, there were drugs found in the house, you…"

"Shut up, Dave."

Rossi's eyes brightened as Hotch looked at him.

"Nice to have you back, my friend."

"How are they?" Hotch's voice cracked.

After helping him drink some water, Rossi sat back in the chair. "They're okay. Jack is with Garcia, she's taking care of him. Jessica got through surgery just fine. She may need some physical therapy but she will be okay with time. She forgives you, Hotch. She knows that wasn't you, she knows what you went through."

Rossi frowned, Hotch's eyes were pricked with tears; he looked lost.

"Tell me what you remember." Rossi said.

Hotch winced. "What I remember? It's June and I'm running through the woods and then, then suddenly it's October and I'm stabbing my sister-in-law in front of my son. That's what I remember, Dave. Everything else, everything Morgan told me I did, everything...everything I..." Hotch slowly shook his head, a tear falling free. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

* * *

The restaurant was packed, the waiter had just delivered their food but the team barely looked down at their plates.

"How is he doing?" asked Prentiss.

Rossi looked around the table at the team, Hotch had been staying with him ever since leaving the hospital three weeks ago.

The media frenzy had followed them, reporters camping out on Rossi's lawn hoping for an interview, a picture of the "Accomplice Agent or Hero?" However, Hotch never strayed outside Rossi's home, never once neared a window again after a wily photographer had gotten a candid shot of him and it made the front page of the papers.

After that, Strauss saw to it that some agents were assigned detail to Rossi's home to keep any stray media persons away, while she and JJ worked round the clock to clear up the mess.

Sean had returned to the States and had come by, the visit was a brief strange disaster. Hotch was barely cordial to his brother. Hotch had said all the right words but they had come out stilted as if he was speaking to a stranger; a usurper who had no right to be smiling at him, no right to be telling him how happy he was that he was safe.

When Sean left looking confused, Rossi had asked him to give Hotch some more time, that he had to find his way back to them again.

In all sense and purposes, Rossi was still living alone. Hotch barely made his presence known in the large house, except on some nights when the anguished shouts of his nightmares would have Rossi racing to the guest room to wake his friend from the memories his mind wouldn't let him remember in the waking world.

In the day, he mostly kept to his room or the den and when their paths would cross, there were polite:

Yeses...

...and thank-yous.

And recently, Hotch's silent piercing stares as he would look at Rossi. Leaving the older man feeling like his brain was being picked at, scratched. Rossi could sense Hotch wanted to ask him something but was considering whether he should or not. The seasoned profiler decided he wouldn't push him to get the words out, not yet anyways; he would give his friend the time he needed.

The days passed and the media frenzy lessened; the reporters getting their stories from Lorelei Gaines who was giving interviews to everyone about Hotch, lifting him up in the media more as a victimized hero instead of criminal.

Hotch's quietness reached an even worrisome level a few days before when he had gone to Garcia's apartment wanting to see Jack.

He hadn't told anyone he was going so he had ended up surprising Garcia, who had opened the door not realizing Jack was nearby. One look at his father had sent the smile Jack was wearing scurrying away, leaving a look of fright on his young face. Gasping, Jack had turned and ran from his father.

Concerned over the look in Hotch's eyes when he left, Garcia had called Rossi who had left home earlier that morning to run some errands. When she told him what had happened, Rossi headed towards her home.

Prentiss had Hotch's car in storage and he hadn't asked for it back yet, so Rossi had asked Garcia to track his other car which had been parked in his driveway, keys in a bowl near the front door. She had kept him on the phone and moments later...

"Sir, it's parked outside my building, but it's been a few minutes already...do you want me to go down, to check if he's in it?"

"No, it's okay, I'm in the area, I'm about five minutes out; you stay with Jack."

Minutes later when Rossi had pulled up next to his car, he got out and made his way over to see Hotch sitting in the driver's seat. His hands were in his lap, his eyes heavy with tears, his lips tightly pressed together. He was lost in a place in his head that left him unaware of Rossi's presence.

"Hotch?" Rossi opened the driver's side door and crouched down, grasping him by the shoulder. Hotch didn't seem to notice.

"Aaron?"

Finally, Hotch twitched at Rossi's voice turning his face to him.

"He's scared of me, Dave. My son is scared of me." The tears in Hotch's eyes overflowed as he squeezed his eyes shut. Rossi had kept holding on to Hotch, fearful that if he let go, his friend would finally slip off the precipice he had been hovering close to for far too long.

* * *

Rossi sighed and pushed his plate away, leaning back in his chair.

"I need to show him the photos."

His words stunned the team.

"He hasn't _seen_ them?" Morgan was aghast. "I thought with the media..."

"He knows they exist, he found out about them." Rossi explained. "He's just never seen them nor asked to see them. Lately however...I can see him struggling with the question."

"Whether he wants to see them or not." said Reid.

"Whether he _needs_ to see them." Rossi corrected. "He's struggling with indecision. I think he needs us to show them to him, but he doesn't know how to ask us to do that."

"But why?" asked Prentiss. "By now he must know that we've seen the pictures and that we'd do anything to help him get past this."

"Yes, but even with everything that's happened, he's still our leader; he's trying to find his way back to himself, but doesn't want us to see him as weak. I don't think he can bring himself to see those photos on his own, to hold in his hand the proof of the darkness that Ezral stained him with."

Morgan leaned forward, a look of determination on his face. "So when do we do this?"

"Not we...me. I think it would be easier for him…less witnesses…if his reaction..." Rossi tilted his head slightly. "Is not a good one."

He raised his hand up as the rest of the team bristled, disagreeing. "And...And then we will _all_ be there to help him move forward." 

**TBC**


	26. Chapter 26

Rossi had given Hotch one more week to see if he would ask to see the photos; but when Hotch remained silent on the issue and had abruptly moved back to his own apartment, he knew he couldn't wait any longer.

The team had been taking care of Hotch's apartment while he was missing, so the night after Hotch returned home, Rossi had knocked on his door twice and when no answer from inside; he used his copy of the key that each team member had and let himself in, to find Hotch sitting on his couch staring blankly at a TV that wasn't turned on.

"Go away, Dave." murmured Hotch not turning to look at his long-time friend; who held a full grocery bag in one hand and a large envelope in the other.

"Not going anywhere, my friend." sighed Rossi in return, closing the door behind him and placing the bag on a nearby table. He made his way over to the couch, envelope in hand and sat resignedly next to his morose leader. His eyebrows raised when he noticed the dent in the wall across from them, Hotch's smashed phone on the ground.

"Bad phone call?" he asked. He had hoped the phone calls they were bombarded with back at his place, both from angry anonymous callers and the media before he finally had to disconnect his line, wouldn't have follow Hotch home.

"What do you want?" asked Hotch, eyeing the envelope warily.

Rossi shook his head. "Ask the question you've _really_ been wanting to ask."

"And what question would that be?" Hotch's breath quickened as Rossi placed the envelope in his lap.

"The answer is yes, Aaron. You need to see them. If you're ever going to get past this...you need to see them."

Hotch's eyes flicked in surprise at Rossi, then back at the envelope in his lap.

"Need and want are two very different things, Dave."

"Open the envelope, Aaron."

"And if I don't?" Hotch asked, his fingers skimming the top of the envelope.

"We'll be here for you either way, but this is something you need to do. You know it...I know it."

"The rest of the team?" asked Hotch hesitantly.

"If you fall, my friend, you have plenty of hands willing to catch you. You don't have to be strong for us right now...we'll be strong for you until you're ready. Now open the envelope."

Rossi's smile was gentle. "Don't keep an old man waiting too long, I'm liable to fall asleep on you…damn comfy couch you have here."

Hotch stared at Rossi for a moment, his indecision still evident, then finally nodded opening the envelope and pulling the set of photos out.

* * *

Later, Rossi would be glad he was the only one to see Hotch's stark pain that night. It broke his heart watching the expression on his friend's face as he slowly looked at each picture, at each time stamp of him helping in the destruction of a life. He watched as his friend's body shook then almost seemed to deflate in on itself.

Suddenly, Hotch lurched off the couch, slamming into his nearby desk sending items scattering as he stumbled towards the washroom, leaving Rossi in stunned silence, watching the photos fluttering to the floor.

Rossi waited a beat then followed as he heard the strained sobs and retching as Hotch, his stomach obviously empty was forcing up only bile as his body strived to expel the horror of the photos from his mind's eye.

Rossi found his friend on the bathroom floor, back against the tub, knees up with arms wrapped around them; panting heavily with eyes squeezed shut on his tear-stained face. Pushing back his own tears, Rossi flushed and lowered the toilet seat then moved to the sink where he wet a washcloth with cool water and lay it on the back of Hotch's neck. Then after filling a glass with water, moved over and lowered himself down next to Hotch with his legs stretched out, their shoulders touching.

He waited a few moments then gently pressed the glass against Hotch's arm.

"Drink." he said.

It was a few beats more before Hotch blindly reached for the glass and took a few sips of water before opening his bloodshot eyes and setting the glass on the floor between them.

They sat in silence for a little while longer, then…

"How could I have done those...what kind of monster am I?" Hotch's eyes were drowning in pain, fear and disappointment as he turned to Rossi.

_That one photo..._

Hotch shuddered.

_With shovel in hand, standing over the half buried victim in the ground. He had been smiling when Ezral had without him knowing taken the picture._

_He had been smiling!_

Hotch groaned and leaning over, lifted the lid of the toilet and retched once more. Rossi grimaced, watching his friend's body painfully clench as only bile once again emerged.

When he was done Hotch shut the lid collapsing back against the tub where Rossi adjusted the washcloth and handed him the glass of water from the floor.

He waited for Hotch to get his bearings.

"Aaron? Look at me."

Hotch was nodding to himself, his eyes faraway. "I'm a danger to those around me." he whispered. "Maybe it's better Jack is scared of me. Maybe I..."

"Stop it!" Rossi demanded turning his body so he faced Hotch. "You don't know what you're saying! You think it's _good_ that Jack, the son you care about more than anything else in this whole world is _scared_ of you?!"

Hotch with wide pained eyes looked at Rossi. "Dave, he's safer away from me. Jessica can take care of him."

"Jessica, who still has trouble standing up straight and needs to walk with a cane on occasion?"

At that moment, Rossi didn't think Hotch could look any paler.

"I...I'm sorry, Aaron, I shouldn't...I didn't mean...She doesn't blame you for any of it. She wants to see you, to see how you're feeling." He didn't like the sudden blankness of Hotch's expression, the feeling of seeing his friend disappearing in front of him.

"She has Jack seeing a therapist. She's told him how much you love and miss him."

Hotch's eyes slipped away from his.

"Aaron?"

Rossi nudged him. "Aaron!"

When Hotch didn't respond, the older man sighed returning to his seat next to his friend. His hand gripping the silent man's arm, trying to ground him, trying to keep him from floating away into the nightmare in his mind.

"You're not a monster, Hotch." Rossi whispered. "You're my friend. Don't let the real monster win. Ezral's dead, you can't die with him...

...I won't let you."

**TBC**


	27. Chapter 27

_"You're not a monster, Hotch." Rossi whispered. "You're my friend. Don't let the real monster win. Ezral's dead, you can't die with him..._

_...I won't let you."_

* * *

**_-A month later-_ **

Strauss sighed, leaning back in her chair looking at the members of the BAU, all except Hotch who were sitting across from her. It was a miracle they were all still sitting there and were not fired or in prison; she and Agent Jareau had worked majorly hard to keep it that way. The media had mostly calmed down, their attentions turned elsewhere to a recent bombing in a nearby city.

"Your suspensions are over." she said as she leaned forward pulling out credentials and guns from a drawer in her desk.

"The board wants to put this fiasco behind them _and_ cases are starting to build up."

The team glanced at each other then stood to receive their belongings.

"You seemed to have gotten out of this unscathed, Erin." remarked Rossi as he holstered his weapon."

Strauss glared at him, then looked away shutting the drawer.

"Not that you didn't deserve to." he finished quickly, after seeing the look on her face.

Ignoring Rossi she turned to Morgan. "Your team, along with Agent Jareau and Miss Garcia will receive docks in pay along with a write up in your files."

Lowering her eyes, she began to shuffle some paperwork on her desk.

"As for myself, I've been told in no uncertain terms that any future career goals I've had, any thoughts I've had of rising above my station, should be forgotten as "the buck stops here." She glanced over at Rossi. "Their words, not mine."

"Strauss, I'm sorry." said Morgan his voice filled with regret. "We should have come to you earlier. We…"

Strauss shook her head, holding up one hand. Pausing for a moment to collect herself she then coughed slightly, continuing…

"Agent Hotchner and I are meeting with the board members in the next few weeks to discuss his future with the FBI. He's going to have to sit in front of the board and tell them honestly that he has no memory of the time he went missing; a few of them aren't entirely convinced."

She paused again, the team seeing her locking down her anger and frustration as she searched for the right words.

"Though Agent Hotchner and I have had our issues over the years, I know he is the best man to lead your team. His work ethic, his integrity go without saying. But, he needs to convince _everyone_ that he is still the man for this job, instead of leaving it because of something he feels guilty about that was beyond his control. With time and help I believe you can all put this behind you and get on with catching the bad guys.

That's what your team does, isn't it?"

Morgan glanced at the rest of team then nodded, eyes strong.

_That's exactly what their team did._

* * *

Hotch was still struggling to get back to himself and had started sessions with a psychologist on Strauss' order. She had told him it was mandatory if he ever wanted to get his job back.

"Do you _want_ your job back?" Morgan had asked Hotch on a visit to his apartment where he found the older agent sitting at his desk, papers strewn everywhere as he poured over Ezral's file for what looked like the umpteenth time. Morgan would have to have a chat with Garcia about where exactly Hotch had gotten the file from.

"Why? You ready to give up the chair already, Morgan?" was Hotch's terse reply, his head still down in the file.

Morgan didn't like that reply so after talking with the rest of the team, they had sat down with Jessica and after being updated had known it was finally time.

* * *

Hotch slowly pulled up to Rossi's home. The older agent was hosting a lunch to celebrate the end of their suspension and he wanted their leader to come.

_Leader._

After everything Ezral had done to him, Hotch was feeling more like a blind follower. He had already gone to apologize to Agent Cade and the nurse for hurting them; and had visited the families of the victims he had helped Ezral destroy, to apologize for being a part in the loss of their loved ones. And because they had heard what had happened to Hotch, some of the family members had forgiven him; which astonished him greatly. Others had refused to even see him; which he understood, but had only served to tighten the screws around his heart even more.

_He had broken them…just as he himself had been broken._

Day in and day out he would go over Ezral's file trying to see if he could understand the man who had turned him so easily.

During his visits to the psychologist, Hotch would be reminded how the factors were all there to make him so malleable.

_Brain injury, drugs, torture. Over time that could change anyone._

Logically he knew that, but it was so much easier to be able to see it clearly from a distance when it was someone _else_ it had happened to; a victim of an Unsub the team was pursuing, but _he_ was the victim this time.

_Victim._

He hated that word now more than ever.

He would find himself staring at Ezral's photo for hours, trying to remember the months of lies the man had plied him with. Trying to remember the moments when he said yes instead of no to the monster.

He felt cheated. Ezral was dead, so he couldn't ask him…

" _Why me?"_

He couldn't get the answers he needed from the man who so easily molded him into someone he'd never imagined he could be. He couldn't feel the justice of locking Ezral away for all the damage he had caused, all the heartache… _just like he had._

"Stop it." murmured Hotch to himself, gripping the steering wheel, then shaking his head he parked and got out of the car. The mind loop he was stuck in was sinking him lower and lower and further away from his team. He didn't want that to happen, they were all he had left.

And when he thought about it…

He _did_ want his job back.

* * *

Rossi let him in with a smile.

The lunch went well, but it bothered Hotch when the team told him about the repercussions of helping him. The loss of pay, the write ups…and he worried about Strauss and her reaction to what it cost her to be a part of what had happened.

Reid pulled him aside after lunch; he could see the worry emanating off his friend.

"Hotch, I wanted to...I never really got a chance to say how sorry I was for shooting at you…in the woods. I don't know if you remember…I-I could have killed you." Reid bit his lip, his eyes heavy with remorse.

Hotch recalled what Morgan had told him about that day and was confused on why Reid would ignore what he himself had done.

"Reid…" He shook his head. “I almost killed you! If Morgan hadn't stopped me…I most likely would have. I should be apologizing to you! I didn't remember, I thought you were all my enemies. I was weak, I…."

"Hotch…no…no.…you're the strongest man I know." whispered Reid, interrupting him.

Hotch's eyebrows raised in surprise, his breath faltering.

“Reid…" he began.

"I know you've been struggling, we all know." nodded Reid. "But honestly, if any one of us were in your shoes, I don't think any of us could have come back without losing our minds …losing ourselves. Write ups, pay cuts…they're nothing to having you back with us."

Hotch's heart clenched as he held up his hand.

"Reid, I'm not as strong as you think."

"You're here with us, aren't you?" Reid smiled. "That makes you Hercules in my book."

The doorbell rang just then, moments later Prentiss stuck her head into the room. "You have a visitor, Hotch" she smiled.

As they returned to the living room, Hotch saw the rest of the team greeting…

"Jessica?" He breathed out, his heart stuttering in his chest.

She looked good, her smile wide as she saw Hotch, the cane she was holding handed to Rossi as she moved forward arms wide.

Hotch froze as she enveloped him in a loving hug; when she pulled back her smile was still there.

"Hi Aaron."

"J-Jessica, how…I'm so..." Hotch sighed looking away.

Jessica gently touched his arm making him look at her.

"I'm okay, Aaron. Trust me, I'm doing okay. I'm so happy to see you. You're looking well."

Hotch nodded, suddenly uncomfortable as everyone's eyes were on them.

Jessica noticed his discomfort and stepped back giving him his space.

She turned to Rossi who nodded and walked out of the room, then she turned back to Hotch a gleam in her eye.

"There's someone else here who wants to see you."

Hotch looked up when Rossi returned to the room…

…with Jack.

Hotch stopped breathing.

"DADDY!" Jack yelled and ran towards his father, a huge grin on his face.

He jumped into Hotch's arms and Hotch gasped, his breath rushing back in as he grabbed onto his son. Emotions crashed through him making his legs buckle and he fell to his knees, still holding Jack tightly in his arms.

"Jack…Jack…" was all he could say, tears streaming down his face.

"Daddy...daddy, I can't breathe, you holding too tight!"

Hotch immediately released his son who smiled and wiped the tears from Hotch's face with his small fingers.

"Don't cry, daddy. The bad man is gone he can't hurt you no more, Auntie Jess told me."

Hotch glanced at Jessica who smiled and nodded; he looked back at his son who continued…

"The bad man hurt you so bad daddy that you got mad and hurt Auntie Jess by mistake. You didn't mean to…you was just hurt so bad. You're not a bad man, I thought you were, but I made a mistake too…I'm sorry. I love you daddy."

Hotch's mouth dropped open as he struggled to contain his emotions, fresh tears falling from his eyes.

He held his son by his shoulders and gazed at him, at the love in his young eyes and a genuine smile formed on Hotch's face; transforming his features, transforming his very heart. It was a smile of release, a smile of hope as he pulled his son into a hug once more.

"I love you too, Jack. Daddy loves you too."

**TBC**


	28. Chapter 28

**\- 11 months later –**

The bullpen was busy, a major case had come to the attention of JJ and the team was preparing to leave.

Morgan had recently stepped down as acting Unit Chief when Hotch had been cleared for duty. It had been a long hard road, but the psychologist and the board members were impressed by Hotch who had gone from victim to survivor; and whose integrity and strength with the support of his team and loved ones had helped him return to where he belonged.

Hotch strode down the hallway towards his office, jacket and tie in place, slowing as he passed a tall dark haired agent who smiled and nodded at him.

"Agent Hotchner."

He nodded back, "Agent Cade." Hotch's smile was quick, his eyes exuding a heartfelt thanks as they passed. Cade had kept his word to Prentiss about being discreet, the events that went on at the hospital months before never leaving his lips.

Hotch quickened his step entering the BAU and made his way to his office. Unaware of the looks of pride from his team as he grabbed his briefcase and go bag and with a glance of affection at the picture of Jack on his desk turned looking out onto the bullpen; his team standing as he emerged, their eyes fixed on their leader.

"Wheels up in thirty." he said.

They all smiled.

_Wheels up in thirty._

They'd be ready.

**The End.**


End file.
